Beauty and the Beast
by evilmanray
Summary: AU. Ivan, referred to as 'the beast' by the people in his village, finds Yao, a beauty locked in his castle due to the effects of a curse. Russia/China, Ivan/Yao.
1. Prologue

**Title**: Beauty and the Beast

**Pairings**: Russia/China (US/UK, France/Canada, Germany/N. Italy)

**Summary**: AU. Ivan, referred to as 'the beast' by the people in his village, finds Yao, a beauty locked in his castle due to the effects of a curse.

**Disclaimer**: I own this like a fat kid refuses cake. I do not own the characters… and I kind of actually don't own that much of the plotline. Wow, this blows.

**A/N**: This is kind of like Beauty and Beast (the Disney film), but with some plot changes. Obviously. It needed a creative edge to _truly_ be original. Okay, who am I kidding, I doubt this original.

* * *

Once upon a time, there were three brothers who were the princes of a faraway land. After hearing about them, an enchantress, secretly disguised as an old, haggard woman, came to the castle doors for three separate nights to put each one of them to a test.

On the first night, when she first visited the castle, it was the youngest brother, Im Yong Soo, who answered the door. She asked for a place to stay the night, as it was raining quite heavily outside. Im Yong Soo was one who loved company, and immediately gave the woman his own bed, even, to sleep in. The following morning, the enchantress revealed herself to Im Yong Soo. In exchange for his extreme hospitality, she granted him another land for him to rule himself. Im Yong Soo hurriedly packed up his things and left the castle, leaving his elder brothers stunned.

On the second night, it was the middle brother, Kiku Honda, who responded to the knocking on the castle's door. The incognito enchantress asked for some food. Kiku was a bit more hesitant than his younger brother, and took a moment to deliberate, but in the end, asked the castle's chef to make something for the woman to eat. For his kind act, she gifted the prince a large amount of money. With that money, Kiku bought his own land to rule, leaving the eldest brother alone, and feeling betrayed.

On the third night, it was raining again, and the enchantress was quite hungry. When the oldest of the three princes, Yao Wang, answered the door, she asked for both a place to rest and a meal. Recognizing the woman as the one who had duped and stolen both of his brothers, Yao refused both of her requests on the spot. The enchantress attempted to persuade him with a beautiful white rose, but Yao stood firm, and continually shooed the old woman away. As a last resort, the enchantress revealed herself to him from her disguise, and said that he would be granted one wish if he complied. Once again, Yao ordered her to be gone. He would not fall for any of her tricks.

Instead of being blessed by her, he was cursed. Yao was to be locked inside his castle, and all his workers were to be turned into household items. She enchanted the rose so that it would only continue to bloom until his twenty-first birthday. Before all the petals dropped and the rose wilted, the prince would have to learn how to love and be loved back, or else he would remain a loner confined to his castle forever.

* * *

**A/N**: Bet you didn't see that coming. I'm a _tad_ bit embarrassed by how short it is (442 words), but it's a prologue of sorts, _so_... right?


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N**: Wow, an update _already_?! Well, I felt bad about such a lamely short prologue, so here is the FIRST chapter! It's not very exciting--just a warning.

* * *

Though it wasn't necessarily a cold, fall day outside, Ivan still put on his jacket, prized scarf, and leather gloves before leaving the house. He could hear his older sister calling after him to be safe, and not to patronize anybody, but her warnings went unheeded and Ivan continued on, blissfully unaware. It was his turn to pick up bread from the bakery in the town, and he had to get there quickly before all the fresh loaves got cold. The leaves crunched under his boots as he walked happily down dirt path from his house on the hill to the bridge that essentially connected him to the town.

The sun was shining, making Ivan have a little skip in his step as he walked through the little town. Not every day did the sun shine so brightly, and especially not during fall, so he savored the feeling as much as he could. He pretended not to hear the rude comments whispered in his direction, or notice the way people stepped out of his path, for the sake of the people doing the actions. They would be sorry. He would get them one day.

Just… not today.

He pushed the door to the bakery open, and the smell of freshly baked bread filled his nose.

"G-Good to see you, I-Ivan," a timid voice called from behind the counter.

"It is good to see you too, Toris!" Ivan shouted back with much more enthusiasm. Toris nodded, shaking.

"What do you need today?" he asked quietly.

"Three loaves of bread," Ivan told him. "I know this is the time when all of the fresh ones come out of the oven, so you will give them to me, da? Your most favorite customer?"

"Uh… sure. One second, please." Toris turned around and shouted something to Eduard in the back about the bread, but Ivan was not listening. Instead, he was using his time wisely by staring at the baker. Ivan liked him the most of out the three bakers. After all, they _were_ best friends. Well, in his mind, they were.

"Here you go, Ivan," Toris said, pulling him out of his reverie. He handed him three loaves of bread wrapped in paper that Ivan held carefully so they would not fall. He was confused when Toris handed him another loaf sheepishly, though.

"What is this for?" Ivan questioned.

"W-Well…" Toris stammered, his face becoming red. Oh, he was just so undeniably cute. "You get to see Natalia a lot, and… well… I was wondering if you could give this to her? And tell her it's from me? Y-You don't have to pay for it, though! It's free of charge! Could you just do me that favor?" At Ivan's dumbfounded stare, he added embarrassedly, "Please?"

"… Ah, I try to avoid Natalia at all costs," Ivan admitted. Toris deflated a little. Ivan did not like seeing Toris do downtrodden, so he attempted to pick up his spirits. "But I will take the bread and give it to my sister, da! Do not get so down! I am sure my sister will love it!"

"But it wasn't meant for your sister…"

His mumbles were only halfhearted.

"She will love it anyway. Oh, I must be on my way," Ivan stated, waving good-bye. "Thank you very much, Toris! Tell your brothers I say hello!"

"Okay…" Toris sighed, and waved back, but was less enthusiastic about it. "I guess I'll see you… later, then."

To Toris, 'later' meant 'hopefully never again'. But he was sure Ivan was going to come back and harass him, as the tall brute always did, whether he realized it or not. Ivan had seemed nice at first, but then… Toris actually got to know him. He wondered how Ivan's older sister, Ukraine, could be so kind and lovely, while Ivan had such a dark aura surrounding him and a childishly cruel personality. He must have gotten the bad genes, Toris decided, and went back to focusing on his bakery.

Once again, people stepped out of Ivan's way as he paraded through the town, having nowhere to go and no one to see. He just liked to go to the town because of all the hustle and bustle. Granted, his house on the hill was so peaceful, but he needed excitement in his life every once in awhile.

Ivan heaved a sigh when he heard a gaggle of girls by the well refer to him as 'the beast'. He had liked it at first, thinking they were praising him for his strength, but then his sister explained to him it wasn't a compliment. And that didn't bode well with him. When he learned that, the next person who called him 'the beast' (a banker, if he could recall correctly) had gotten hit on the head with a faucet pipe, giving the townspeople all the more reason to disapprove of him. He didn't see what was so wrong about it, as he was only giving that man what he deserved, but his sister chided him and told him never to do that again. Only when he was going to leave the town for good would he strike anybody with his beloved faucet pipe.

He was rather looking forward to it.

Ivan took a seat down on the edge of the fountain in the middle of the town, and broke the fourth loaf in half. He _was_ honestly going to give it to his sister, but he was hungry, and what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. After devouring one of the halves, he was vaguely aware of a presence sitting very closely by his side.

_Natalia_.

He shuddered, and scooted down the edge, away from the girl. She just continued to move closer until she was basically seated on his lap.

"Um… hello, Natalia," Ivan greeted her hesitantly. Natalia was the only thing that scared him. "Is there something you need?"

"I like Ivan very much," Natalia said. "I will sit here with you until you agree to marry me."

"Marry you? No, thank you, Natalia. I do not think that is such a good idea…"

"It is. Trust me." Ivan shivered when he felt fingers twirling in his hair. "We should marry."

"No. We should not." Ivan stood up, dislodging Natalia from his lap. He offered her the last half of the bread. "You will leave me alone if I give this to you, da?"

"No." Natalia also stood, smoothing down her dress. "But I will take it anyway. We can share it, to celebrate out upcoming betrothal. I am sure you will agree to marry me." She took the bread from his grasp, bit off a tiny piece, and then handed it back to him. "Now you."

"… Keep it. It was from Toris, anyway. I was going to give it to you for him, but I got hungry waiting for you," Ivan lied. Natalia suddenly looked at the bread with disdain.

"From Toris? The baker?"

"Da."

"I don't want it anymore. You can keep it."

"No, it's yours, I assure you."

Ivan shoved it back into her hands.

"You should go thank Toris," he advised.

"Oh, I'll go do something to Toris, all right," Natalia hissed, and then stormed away. Ivan let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding, turned, and headed back to his house. Staying in the town for a longer amount of time was not an option, lest he see Natalia again. Besides, he was sure his older sister was probably starting to get worried about him.

---

The door creaked as Ivan opened it. He removed his gloves, but left his coat and scarf on, since he loved them too much to take them off.

"Sister?" he called. The house was too quiet. "Sister?"

There was no reply.

Had Ukraine run away from him?

… _Again_?

Ukraine had an odd habit of running away from him and leaving the house for a certain amount of time. She usually hid out in the woods in the same place, so it was always easy for Ivan to go find her and drag her back home. Last time, though, it had taken a lot of persuasion and physical strength to get her to return home with him. Ivan had to pick her up and throw her over his shoulder and carry her back. She had screamed and kicked the entire way, but he knew that once she settled down, it would all be okay again. He did not know what possessed her to keep leaving him, though. Ivan thought he was a good person.

He sighed, placing the loaves of bread on the unstable wooden table and put his gloves back on. He would have to go and hunt for his sister. He grabbed a bottle of his precious vodka and stuffed it in his coat before leaving, in case he ever got tired and needed that little pick-me-up of happiness the alcohol gave him.

Ah, vodka would always be his one, true love…

* * *

**A/N**: Nope. Sorry, Ivan, vodka's not your one, true love. Ah, yes, Natalia is the infamous Gaston... Really, could you think of someone more perfect for the part? And poor Toris. I always want to hug him. Oh, and if you care, the approximate word count is about 1,507 words. Yeah, I don't write the longest chapters... Sorry if you were looking for long chapters.


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N**: Boredom has been controlling my life for the past couple of days… Please, enjoy this update. It picks up a little, yay! Stuff happens! Oh, and if you want, do review, please. I'm not going to be one of those people who says 'I NEED (insert number here) REVIEWS BEFORE I UPLOAD THE NEXT CHAPTER'. Those people kind of bum out my trip, you know? . I'm not forcing you to review, I'm just asking. It'd be nice if you did :) I wanna know what you guys think! I want to hear your suggestions, if you like it, if they're getting OOC... really, I do! I appreciate what you say :)

**Warning(s)**: Francis Bonnefoy. That name is a warning in and of itself. Coarse language and some crude humor in this chapter.

* * *

The sun was beginning to set, and it was starting to get dark outside, making it harder to see things. Ivan cursed under his breath when he tripped over a root in the woods. Trees' twigs and leaves had begun to latch onto his scarf and lodge themselves in his hair, uninvited. He could feel himself growing more and more agitated by the second, but he had to focus. He had to find his older sister! She was probably so cold, curled up on the forest floor, waiting for him to come save her. Just thinking of that worst-case scenario made Ivan speed up a little.

It was only after about half an hour of his very frantic searching did he come across a dirt path. It was small and barely able to be seen, but it was there, all right. Thinking that maybe Ukraine had also seen it and taken it, Ivan followed the trail. Halfway down the path, the trees began looking rotten and mangled, and a sense of something horrific to come hung in the air. Ivan didn't notice it, so he continued on, valiantly searching for his beloved older sister.

Soon, large iron gates came into his line of vision, and Ivan broke into a run. Yes, Ukraine must have gone through the gates! They were open, and even though they looked heavy, Ivan pushed them aside without any difficulty. He gasped when he looked up and noticed what was looming ahead.

A castle!

---

"I think I hear someone, _mon amour_!"

"I am not your love, you bloody frog! And you're probably just hearing things!"

"But, Arthur, I am speaking the truth! I hear someone's footsteps!"

"I don't have time for this."

"No, Arthur, I hear it too! It's getting louder. Just listen!"

"Alfred, stop messing around with me."

"_Non_, I do not think he could do that, no matter how hard he tried."

"Wow, Francis, that was completely uncalled for."

"Bloody hell! When the curse is broken, I'm leaving this place and never coming back! Thank the good lord ignorance isn't contagious, or else I would be one of the most idiotic people I know!"

"That didn't make sense, eh…"

"Who said that?!"

"… Matthew…"

"No one asked you!"

"Arthur! Do not yell at my Matthieu!"

"B-Be quiet, you guys! I hear footsteps!"

"… Wait, so I do!"

"Oh, so _now_ you hear them? I told you there were footsteps, like, five minutes ago!"

"Shut the fuck up, you sodding American git."

"Oh, come on now, Iggy…"

"He's just sore he hasn't gotten any passionate loving from Alfred since this curse was placed on us…"

"I swear to God, _Bonnefoy_, if you say one more rude thing, I'll—"

Thankfully, Arthur had no time to finish his threat, since the castles doors were being pushed open. Francis nudged Arthur with one of his candlesticks, giving him an 'I-told-you-so' look, and it took all of Arthur's self-control not to punch the guy's lights out.

Ivan pretended not to hear the arguing voices in the dark, and stepped into the castle. He wasn't being cautious, as the thing looked uninhabited and desolate. He didn't believe anyone could live in such a horrible place. But he didn't dwell on those aspects; he needed to find Ukraine! He noticed an unlit candelabrum on the sill of a window, along with a clock (that somehow looked angry, if clocks could display emotion), a teacup, and a very tasty looking gingerbread man. Oh, how he wanted to eat that gingerbread man… He picked it up, but dropped it when a very harsh voice rang out.

"Put Alfred down!" the clock shouted at him.

"Wow, way to blow our cover, Arthur," the gingerbread man said back at him. He turned to Ivan. "Well, now that the gig is up, can I just tell you one thing? Don't eat the hero."

"… You talk!" Ivan said, delighted. It was not everyday that one found talking objects. Was he going crazy? No, he really hoped not. But if he was, this was much more fun than being sane, anyway. "Now you're even more delicious!"

"_No_!" the gingerbread man shouted. "No! No, I'm not! In fact, I taste _horrible_! Just ask Arthur."

"_Mon dieu_, Alfred…" the candelabrum sighed.

"You're disgusting, frog!" the clock hissed, and smacked the other with one of his tiny arms that Ivan found absolutely adorable. "He didn't mean it like _that_."

"It could have been taken that way, _le plus cher_."

"F-Francis…" the teacup sighed. "How about we _actually_ greet the guest, eh? I'm Matthew Williams, the teacup."

"That's nice," Ivan said. "But I do not like tea."

"Hey, me too!" the gingerbread man said. "I'm Alfred F. Jones!"

"Oh, that is right, you are the _heroic_ gingerbread man, da?"

"Yes! I'm the hero!"

"Don't let it get to your head," the clock grumbled, irritated. "I'm Arthur Kirkland, the clock."

"That sounded weird," Alfred whispered. "I mean, they way you said 'clock'."

"Shut up," Arthur hissed.

"And _I'm_ the lewd one?" the candelabrum chuckled good-naturedly. "Ah, pleased to meet your acquaintance, Monsieur…?"

"Ivan, da!" Ivan said. "Ivan Braginski!"

"Monsieur Braginski, then! I, _mon cher_, am Francis Bonnefoy, the lovely Frenchman. The flames of my candles represent my flaming _passion_!"

"… I am Russian," Ivan said after a moment of thought.

"I could tell," the clock said, rolling his eyes. Ivan noticed he tended to do that a lot. "I'm a British gentleman, if you haven't noticed by now."

"I have noticed, da," Ivan said, reassuring the clock. He could definitely easily smash the wimpy little clock, but something about Arthur just screamed 'I can and will kill you'. Ivan really did not want to be on his bad side. "As entertaining as you all are, I must find my sister! Have you seen her, by any chance?"

"… The one with the chest sent from the heavens?" Francis asked.

"If I had arms, I would have slapped you, eh," the teacup huffed angrily. Francis shrugged.

"Then you _have_ seen her!" Ivan shouted. "Oh, that is so great! I need to find her and bring her home, da! She always runs away from me, and now look at what she's gotten into… Maybe this will teach her a lesson!"

"We know where she is!" Alfred said. "We'll take you to her. But I'll lead, since _I'm_ the hero!"

"Oh, that's right, you are the hero?" Ivan asked. Alfred nodded so fast Ivan thought his little cookie head was going to snap right off. "Well, if Alfred is the hero, then he is willing to share, da?"

"… What?" Alfred looked as confused as a gingerbread man could be.

"I am hungry!" Ivan informed him. "Maybe I can have one of your arms?"

"… You're kidding, right?"

"No."

"… Um, no."

"But I am hungry. I need food, or else I will die."

"The bigger they are, the harder they fall," Francis said. "It would take a lot to kill a beast like you!"

The next thing Francis knew, he was being thrown down onto the castle floor quite hard.

"You deserved it!" a cheery voice said merrily. "I am no beast, da. I am kind!"

"… Yes, you are! So good, so kind!" Arthur quickly agreed. "You've just done what I've wanted to do for so many years! I congratulate you."

"Oh, you flatter me," Ivan said, blushing.

Francis groaned from down on the floor.

"Be a man, _Bonnefoy_!" Arthur shouted down at him. "Get up!"

"You are cruel, _mon amour_!" the pained candelabrum growled. He slowly picked himself up and put all candles in their assigned holders. "Was that really necessary, Monsieur?"

"I told you, I am _not_ a beast!" Ivan repeated. "I miss my sister very much, da! Please, you must help me find her!"

"All right, all right, calm down," Matthew said. "We'll take you to where she is, eh."

"Thank you… um…"

"It's Matthew!" the teacup said. "Why does everyone forget?!"

"I don't, _mon amour_!" Francis assured him.

"But that's because we—"

"Stop! I don't want to hear about my little brother's sexual adventures!" Alfred said loudly, and hopped off of the windowsill, onto the floor. Arthur followed suit. Ivan helped Matthew down gently, as the teacup was made out of a material that could be easily shattered.

"Follow me, Ivan," Francis instructed, and suddenly one of his candles burst into flames. "I'll show you the way. Do _not_ get sidetracked. We do not want the owner of this castle finding you poking around in his castle, _oui_?"

"What is wrong with the owner of the castle?" Ivan questioned, following the candle down the winding halls.

"Nothing," Arthur cut in hurriedly. "Nothing at all. It's completely normal here."

"… _Mon cher_, he could be the one to—"

"No way, frog. Key word there was 'he'. I don't think a guy is going to get the job done."

"That's hypocritical, eh," Mattew said.

"Hypocrite!" Alfred repeated.

"It's not hypocritical!" Arthur yelled, frustrated. "Bloody hell! Fine! I don't care! The girl didn't cut it, so let's just try her brother, okay?! It doesn't matter!"

"_Merci_."

"Shut up, Bonnefoy."

"What are you talking about?" Ivan asked.

"Nothing," Arthur said again. "Just keep quiet."

"Da."

The stone corridors of the castle were long and barren. Their walls had pictures and portraits hung on them, but they had since long been forgotten, and now rested crookedly covered in dust. The red rug was disheveled and torn in some places. An occasional torch was placed on the wall, but Ivan did not spot many. Maybe the owner of the castle was afraid of the light? Ah, yes, that must be his big secret, and Arthur simply did not want to embarrass his master. How sweet.

"She's in here," Francis said, gesturing to a wooden door.

It was a disgustingly rotten and old door, one that had most definitely been neglected and received harsh treatment. Carefully, so as not to break it, Ivan pushed the door open and stepped inside the tiny room.

There, in a cell, was his wonderful Ukraine! Locked up like an animal!

Although Ivan loathed the sight of it, he also felt as if she had gotten what she deserved.

"Sister!" Ivan shouted, running over to her cell and dropping to his knees. Ukraine sat with her knees pulled up to her chest, and lifted her head to look at her younger brother. Ivan could see the trails of tears down her face.

"Ivan?" she asked. Ivan nodded. "Ivan, you must leave this place! I-It's not safe!" She burst into tears and started crying again.

"No, Sister! I cannot leave without you!" the tall man said, shaking his head. "Who did this to you?"

"A man!" Ukraine said.

No, _really_?

"… You need to elaborate," he told her.

"The master of the castle!" she sobbed, and pressed her face back down onto her knees. "He was so cruel! I only wanted a place to stay, and he threw me in here for trespassing!"

"You should have stayed home, da," Ivan said, no sympathy in his voice at all.

Really, she should have stayed home. He could have avoided this whole mess if she had just _stayed home_! Ivan felt irritation bubbling inside of him, but he did not let it show. Bad things always happened when he got mad at his cherished older sister.

"I can't! You are home!"

"All the more reason to stay, Sister!"

"I can't stay with _you_! Ivan, you scare me so much!"

"I do not scare you! Name one time I've scared you!"

"How about that one time when—"

"That does not count, da. See, you cannot think of a time when I scared you. I know you are not so right in the head, and that causes you to run away from the house like a frightened cat, but do not go blaming it on me. I only do what is in your best interest!"

"But you… You…"

Her voice died when the sound of raging footsteps came so close. They stopped when they reach the room Ivan and his sister were occupying.

"Who _are_ you, aru?!"

* * *

**A/N**: ... Cliffhanger, anyone? :) If anyone cares, the approximate word count is 2,036 words. Please, notice how the story gets less serious when _those_ four enter. Of course Francis would be Lumiere, since he's, well, _French_. Props to you if you saw that coming. And Arthur is Cogsworth, because, really? They've both got sticks up their asses. It worked. Matthew is the teacup, Chip, because the ottoman will be Kumajiro! :D Oh, and I made Alfred a gingerbread man, because, well... what's more awesome than heroic gingerbread? Nothing, that's right. _Nothing_. Ivan wants to devour heroic little Alfred... No, Ivan, not his gumdrop buttons!

Oh, and once again, if anyone cares, I just took my test on WWII on Friday. I drew doodles of all the Hetalia Axis/Allies guys all over my paper. I see bonus points! No, just kidding... I doubt my teacher is going to appreciate the Hetalia gang. She's Polish-American, so I really wanted to draw Feliks too, but I have a feeling I would have gotten points taken _off _if I did that. I go to a Catholic school--Feliks would definitely be under appreciated there :(

And then my friend found a picture I drew . It was Arthur on his knees begging Alfred for help and supplies, and Alfred saying, "Only if you suck my cock," and Feleciano waving a white flag and saying, "I will!" And Ludwig was in the background, face-palming. She found it, and was like, "... What is this?" And I was like, "... Nothing :D" And she's like, "These are the people who hang with the Russian guy you drew?" And I'm like, "Yeah." And she's like, "Okay, then."

I've always hated long author's notes, but damn. I needed to tell _someone_ who would appreciate it! Sorry for taking up your time :) Review, you guys!


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N**: I'm just having too much fun with this. Enjoy! Oh, and another thing, I know I chewed you guys out about reviewing yesterday, but, really. If you have time to favorite or put this on your alerts, you want to review, too…? I know you all want to click the button at the bottom of this page and review. Indulge yourself. Oh, and may I give a shout-out to _everyone_? You deserve it!

* * *

At the sound of the harsh voice, Ukraine let out a horribly loud and terrified wail, and folded in on herself even more. Ivan finally let his irritation show as he stood up with a loud clatter, his boots slamming angrily against the stone floor. Who would have the gall to hurt his older sister and treat her like an animal?! He would take his vodka bottle—and to waste his vodka would be a big sacrifice—and beat him or her to a pulp with it. Even though he felt that in this case she somewhat deserved it for being rotten, nobody hurt his sister without his permission!

"I am Ivan Br…" Ivan began, turning away from Ukraine, but trailed off when he saw who was standing in the doorway. His brain seemed to shut down, and it felt as if his heart was going to jump out of his chest, the latter action he meant quite literally. Though, he wouldn't honestly care if it did at that moment.

_B-Beautiful…_ his mind stuttered, seemingly incapable of forming a complete thought.

Gosh, this man was even more beautiful than his lovely Toris!

He was so sleek and thin with shiny black hair pulled into a ponytail. He huffed and brushed a couple strands away from his enticing dark brown eyes. Ivan really wanted to reach out and touch his pale cheek just to make sure this stunningly gorgeous person was real, and hopefully not a figment of his imagination.

Only when hell froze over would he think about hitting this man with his pipe or his vodka bottle.

"W-What are you doing, aru?!" the man yelped, taking a step back.

At some point during his mental appreciation, Ivan had gravitated closer to the beauty, leaving only about an inch's space between them. He retracted his wandering hand that was only a second away from caressing the other's face and smiled widely. The man only looked even more uneasy by that gesture.

"Sorry. I am Ivan Braginski," the Russian said, and gestured over to Ukraine. "You have my older sister captive. You are the master of this castle, da?"

"I am. My name is Yao Wang, aru."

"Yao, da…" Ivan repeated dreamily. Oh, how he loved the way it sounded!

"I have your sister?" Yao asked, trying to bring his uninvited guest back into the real world.

"Da! You have Ukraine. Why did you lock her up?"

"She found this place, _those_ four showed her around," he gestured to the sheepish looking group that had also shown Ivan the castle, "and eventually they found me, aru. She was hungry, wanted food, and a place to stay. So I offered her my castle as temporary housing," Yao explained. He had learned his lesson from last time—no, really, he had. Besides, this woman hadn't snatched away his brothers.

"That hardly sounds like a crime," Ivan said, frowning. "Or you are implying that prison cells are beds, da?"

"No, you did not let me finish, aru." Yao held up his hand, and Ivan resisted the burning temptation to hold it in his own. "We were having a pleasant conversation when I asked her about her family. She suddenly leapt up and started yelling about how 'the beast' was going to find her and that she had to leave quickly. She grabbed many of my precious artifacts, aru, and was about to take off with them."

"… The beast?"

Ivan had not heard past that part. His own sister, his wonderful, sublime, precious older sister had referred to him as the beast? He could not believe his ears!

"Yes. Do you of know this beast, aru?"

"… No," Ivan lied. It would not do to make a bad impression in front of someone as magnificent and heavenly as Yao! He could not learn of Ivan's mocking nickname, or else Ivan thought he would die of embarrassed shame. No, Yao would have to be blissfully kept in the dark. It was for the best. "She is… not so right in the head, da."

"I-Ivan!" Ukraine shouted from her corner in the cell.

"I had guessed that much."

"But… why is she locked up?"

"That's personal, aru!" Yao said, suddenly getting defensive.

"My apologies. Will you let her go and give her back to me so I may take her home?"

_And punish her for being such a trouble-maker_, Ivan added with a glance over his shoulder. Oh, Ukraine would be in for it. He had only had to strike her with his pipe once, and it had been a very hard blow to the head, so he had hoped to never do it again. But that was not how things were going to be, it seemed. She was such a naughty older sister… making trouble for him…

"I will," Yao agreed.

"No, no, wait a second!" a voice piped up from below.

"Alfred, be quiet!" Arthur hushed him.

"Make me, old man!" Alfred said back, and walked with his stubby little gingerbread legs next to Yao. "You can't just set her free, Yao!"

"Why, aru?" Yao asked, raising an eyebrow. He really wanted both of them _gone_.

Wait, Alfred hadn't thought that far. All he knew was that Ivan absolutely could not leave.

"Um…" Alfred floundered. "Oh! You're just setting her free, Yao, what do you get in return? She almost touched, and _ruined_, the rose!"

"_Alfred_!" Yao hissed.

"What rose?" Ivan asked.

"Nothing." Yao glared at Alfred. "He's just making up nonsense, aru."

"It's okay," Ivan said. "Sunflowers are better anyway, da."

"… That's cool," Alfred said, shaking his head. "As I was saying, I think Ivan should take her place! You know, that way it's fair! You let the crazy chick go, and keep her psychotic brother! No offense, Ivan."

"No, Alfred. That's not fair to her brother—"

"I have no objections!" Ivan threw in hurriedly. The more time he could spend with Yao, the better.

Alfred was one smart cookie! Even if he did call him 'psychotic'. Ivan was willing to look past that.

"… No, aru, it's fine…"

"Da, you say that, but I know you are lying! It is not fair. I believe in fairness, da, and I shall uphold that belief, even in a creepy castle!"

"No, you _really_ don't—Ow! Who did that, aru?!"

"Think about it for a moment, master," Francis's smooth voice interrupted. "A woman stumbled upon your castle, and things did not… how do you say… _click_? And now there's this man, her brother. He is willing to stay here, with you, by his own choice. Isn't that telling you something, _mon cher_?"

Yao raked his eyes up and down Ivan's well-built and brawny figure. The other's lavender eyes and (weird) quirky smile radiated a child-like happiness he had not seen since Im Yong Soo left. But that was where the similarities ended. Though he would deny ever thinking it, Ivan was _very_ attractive and handsome. Im Yong Soo… not so much. His younger brother was also very irritating. Ivan also seemed irritating, but in a much different way.

And… there was just _something_ about him.

"… Fine," Yao agreed after much careful consideration. "He may stay, aru. Alfred, where is the key to this girl's cell?"

"I gave it to Arthur," Alfred said.

"Bloody hell you did!" Arthur hollered back, indignant. "Don't make up excuses because you lose things!"

"I never lose things! I just inconveniently-slash-temporarily misplace them!"

Yao rubbed his face with his hands. His whole _life_ was full of irritating people, so did it matter he was adding one more irritant?

"I have it, eh," Matthew said.

"Thank you, aru," Yao said, bending down and retrieving the key from inside the little teacup. Ivan tried not to enjoy the show too much, or else that would be rude.

"Why did you have it?" Alfred asked.

"Because I knew you would lose it, and then I knew you and Arthur would fight about you losing things," Matthew explained with a sigh. "I tried to avoid that happening, but you two still fought, anyway."

"Good try, _mon amour_. It was a valiant effort," Francis comforted the teacup. Matthew simply ignored him.

"Would you four _be quiet_, aru?!" Yao said, a bit cross at their incessant chatter. "One second, Ivan, and I'll have your sister free, okay?"

"Da."

It took a moment of concentration, and lots of the jiggling of the bars, before the door to the cell came unlocked and swung open. Yao gestured for Ivan to go into the prison and retrieve his sister, who had actually fallen asleep.

"Sister?" Ivan said, shaking his sister awake by the shoulder. Ukraine's eyes snapped open and she quickly shoved Ivan away. She backed up as far as possible, cringing when her back slammed against the wall. Ivan stared at her, confused. "What is wrong, Sister?"

"You! You're in my nightmares, and when I wake up, all I see is you! The nightmares continue on!" Ukraine confessed, the water-works starting all over again. Ivan's perfect mask of indifference cracked, and for one moment, Yao could see the wounded look in those purple eyes. But as soon as it had slipped, it was back, and Ivan shut out all unhappy emotions again.

"Sister, you must be sick!" he chuckled. "This is no nightmare!"

"That's what I was afraid of you saying!" his older sister blubbered.

"Sister, listen to me!" Ivan sank down on to his knees and crawled over to her, placing a forceful grip on her shoulder. She winced. "Yao has set you free, okay? You must go home and sleep. But when you wake up, I will not be there, da… I will stay with Yao."

"D-Do you promise?"

"I have promised Yao, da."

"Then I guess it's all right for me to go home…"

"Sister, do you need help standing up?"

"No!" Ukraine shouted. "You can get let of me now!"

Ivan removed his hand, and his older sister shakily stood up. He followed her example, and led her out of the cell. Yao shut the door behind them, the metal bars of the door sounding with a loud _bang_.

"You are staying here, Ivan?" Ukraine asked.

"Yes, Sister," Ivan said again, nodding.

"I will miss you so much!" she whispered, and speedily gave him a hug. She did not have a chance to pull back, though, as Ivan crushed her in his own embrace.

"I will miss you too, Sister! Tell Natalia to never come looking for me!" he said while letting her go.

"I'll show you out, miss," Arthur offered, and Ukraine followed the clock out of the room, and eventually out of the castle. Ivan waved after her, even though she couldn't see.

"… That was…" Yao began.

"She is even more mad when she is sick," Ivan explained. "That must have been it."

"I see, aru," the prince sighed. "Come along, now, I'll show you to your room."

"This will not be my room?"

"No. You will have nicer quarters. Follow me."

And Ivan did, like a lost puppy.

---

"See! I told you all I'm the hero!" Alfred said proudly, puffing out his little gingerbread chest. "This curse is going to break, and you will all have _me_ to thank! Arthur, you should be praising me! 'Wow, Alfred, I never noticed how totally awesome you are! I want to make out with you _soooo_ bad, Alfred F. Jones, you're my hero! I love you!'"

"First off, that is complete rubbish. I would never in my entire life say that!" Arthur huffed.

"Ve, you're going to break the curse, Alfred?" Feliciano, the cook-turned-stove, questioned. "Does Yao love gingerbread men that much?"

"No, he persuaded some scary Russian to break it," Arthur told him. Feliciano let out an 'ohhh' and another 've' that the clock found extremely annoying.

"Arthur, seriously, do you have to be so negative? I mean, if this doesn't work, then we're all screwed," Alfred said, picking at his icing jacket. "Do you want to be a clock for the rest of your life? I sure as hell don't want to be a gingerbread man. I only wear a jacket and a T-shirt! Somebody forgot to give me pants! You think I like walking around with no pants on?"

"Yes," Arthur replied sarcastically.

"Streaking is fun, Alfred!" Feliciano said merrily. "I mean, I used to forget to wear my pants sometimes, and then it got _really_ fun with Vash got mad! Don't be so down about it, ve!"

"That's not the point," Alfred whined.

"What is the point, then?" Arthur grumbled.

"Oh, come on, you should know! I'm suffering from our serious lack of fun!"

"Oh, please, quit your complaining. We have fun."

"Not my _favorite_ kind of fun!"

"… You're disgusting."

"I'm just being honest!"

"Sod off!"

"So when is the curse going to be broken, ve?" the Italian chef questioned.

"That's up to the two love-birds, kid," Alfred said, shrugging, and attempting to make a heart in the air with his gingerbread arms. Needless to say it didn't work out very well.

"I'm older than you, ve!" Feliciano said loudly. He scanned the room for Ludwig, his best friend in the entire (kitchen) world. Ah, there he was! "Ve, Ludwig! Ludwig, Alfred found a scary Russian man that Yao likes!"

"What?" the mug of beer asked.

"I _said_ Yao is in love!" Feliciano yelled again, even louder this time. "With a Russian!"

"Then why aren't we human again?" Ludwig sighed. "Don't spread lies. That's not right."

"Oh, I can't wait to be human again!" Feliciano said dreamily, ignoring his German friend's comment. If Ludwig had arms, he would have slapped his hand against his forehead. "But the first time we have sex again, we're not doing any of your crazy ideas, ve!"

"_Feliciano_!"

"The first thing I'm doing when turn back into a human is taking my glasses off," Alfred groaned.

"… Please, tell me you're joking," Arthur said, rolling his eyes.

"I'm not! Do you know what it's like having glasses glued to your face with icing?! Yeah, it gets really annoying after awhile! I can't even take them off to sleep!"

"Someone save me…"

A pause.

"I will, since _I'm_ the hero!"

* * *

**A/N**: ... If anyone cares, the approximate word count is around 2,379 words. And even if everyone has noticed by now, this is not the most serious or an angst-filled story :P Sorry if you were looking for epic death and destruction. That's not here. I don't roll like that. Back to discussion about this chapter. Okay, half of the things in the paragraphs with Ivan are very _wrong_. Example: _He had only had to strike her with his pipe once, and it had been a very hard blow to the head, so he had hoped to never do it again_. Yeah, number one, that is not me giving you permission to kill your sibling with a pipe, so don't even try. Number two, Ivan has a _mental issue_. Come on. It's kind of obvious that something isn't wired right in that Russian brain of his. But I love him and want to hug the daylights out of him anyway~ :3

... Gah, I have a test on The Diary of Anne Frank: Acts 1 and 2 tomorrow... I probably should be studying instead of writing gay fanfiction, but... This is WAY more fun :D By the way, I got a 98 on that social studies test I was telling you about ;D I only got one question wrong! It was on Neville Chamberlain, so... whatever :D She didn't actually SHOW me my test, so I don't know if she liked my drawings or not :P I'm going to go with that she did, because she's cool like that :D Oh, and at play practice today, I almost tripped my librarian/the director. ALMOST. _Craaaaap_... And I had a quiz on The Devil's Arithmetic today. Fail. I didn't even read the chapters we were quizzed on. Once again, _craaaaap_... And then my friend who is a guy and another kid got into a heated debate over Canada, and I couldn't stop laughing xD

Guy Friend: "Canada is so stupid, you know? I mean, one person is probably like, 'Hey, what's the name of that country above the United States of fucking _America_?' And the other person is like, 'Um...' and then the person who asked the question is like, 'Oh, that's right! NOBODY CARES!'"

Kid: "I CARE."

Guy Friend: "... That's cool. But, seriously, Canada is so useless."

Me: "Italy is useless."

Guy Friend: "YOU ARE SO RIGHT, MARCI."

Me: "... It was a joke."

Guy Friend: "I don't get it."

Me: "You wouldn't."

And then they went back to fighting about Canada. Entertaining school day indeed. Damn, I hate long author's notes, and now I'm being hypocritical...


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N**: I actually don't have much to say, surprisingly. Thanks for all the reviews :) You guys make me so happy! I'm so glad my humor is being conveyed well. I love you all too much.

* * *

Ivan sighed, unwrapped his scarf from around his neck, took his gloves off, and removed his coat. His bottle of vodka was carefully placed on the night table. He tossed all the discarded articles of clothing onto a chair pushed into a desk nearby his new bed. His new bed… He ran his fingers over the smooth silk of the bed's comforter and fluffed one of the comfortable pillows. First Yao, and now a pretty room—this wasn't turning out like any of the scary fairy tales his older sister had told him.

Ah, his sister. She had only been gone for a little while, and yet he still missed presence. The scarf he cherished so much happened to be a gift from her. He rewrapped the scarf back around his neck, pretending its weight was like her arms around him in a hug. Ukraine's hugs were always the best when he was sad.

"Are you all right?" a new voice asked, and Ivan spun around, facing a dresser.

"Don't talk to strangers, Liechtenstein!" the armoire next to the dresser shouted irately, the doors to it flapping open loudly and banging shut multiple times. The dresser heaved a sigh.  
"Okay," it said. Ivan thought it had a distinctly girlish voice. Oh, good, a girl actually worked in the castle! So far it had been all men… Maybe Ivan could take her under his wing and make her like Ukraine to lessen the feeling of familial loss…

Though, the look the armoire was giving him told him that idea was a no-go.

"Hi!" Ivan introduced himself. "I am Ivan Braginski, Yao's new prisoner, da! It's nice to meet you!"

"I'm Vash Zwingli," the armoire stated. "And the dresser is my adopted little sister, Lichtenstein. Stay away from us."

"But you are so interesting and ornate!" Ivan rebutted his demand with a smile. He walked over and deliberately ran his hands over the wood of the armoire slowly, reveling in the way the wood seemed to crack underneath his roaming palms with anger. Oh, this was just too much fun. "And you feel so smooth, da. I can't leave you alone! That would be rude!"

"Stop it!" Vash yelled again. "You're not from here! Leave my sister and I alone! Don't you understand?!"

"I understand, da," Ivan said, nodding, and switched over to touching the dresser. Lichtenstein actually seemed to sort of like his attention, because she giggled. "Oh, you are such a beautiful dresser! You remind me of my gorgeous older sister, Ukraine, did you know?"

"Really?" the dresser asked, eyes wide.

"No," the armoire deadpanned. "Don't fall for any of his tricks!"

"It's no trick, da!" Ivan denied. "Ukraine was the best sister to me, as I am sure Lichtenstein is to you, Vash. Though she did tend to run away…"

"Why?" Lichtenstein asked curiously.

"I do not know. I was good to her," Ivan said, shrugging. "I've only raised my metal pipe and struck her once… but only because she was being a bad girl…"

The silence from the dresser and armoire was awkward.

"What?"

"You are to stay _away_ from my sister!" Vash growled.

Ivan laughed and patted the armoire again, this time much more harshly.

"… Monsieur, what are you doing to Vash?" Francis asked from the doorway. Oops, had Ivan left that open?

"Vash and Lichtenstein and I are going to be best friends and roommates, Francis. I can already tell, da," Ivan stated, sending a positively evil grin the direction of the two pieces of furniture mentioned. Lichtenstein moved closer to her brother. "Is there something you need?"

"_Oui_, my group and I would love to show you around the castle," Francis said. "Would you like a tour?"

"A tour?" Ivan asked. He was already having so much fun with his new friends, but he supposed he could spare a few minutes to be shown all the rooms and introduced to all the servants. "Da, I would like it if Francis and company gave me a look around."

"All right, then. Follow me."

"I'll see you two later!" Ivan called over his shoulder as he left the room, waving. He followed Francis, Arthur, Alfred, and… wait… what was the name of that teacup, again? Oh, right, it was Matthew! He was just so forgettable. "Where are you four taking me first?"

"The kitchen and dining room, so you do not die of hunger," Arthur explained, hands clasped behind his back. Alfred kept trying to snag one of them to hold onto, but Arthur swatted the gingerbread's grabby arms away each time. Eventually, he said, "Bloody hell, Alfred, would you quit that?!"

"I just want to hold hands!" Alfred whined. "Granted, I have stubs at the ends of my arms, but I thought you would love me no matter what!"

"That has nothing to do with this situation," Arthur grumbled, rolling his eyes. Ah, there he went again with the eye rolling, Ivan thought.

"It does!" Alfred said. "I liked your eyebrows when you were human, and that's saying something!"

"_Mon dieu_, Arthur, hold your little lover's hand to make him be quiet," Francis sighed, shaking his head. "Besides, I thought you were a British _gentleman_?"

Matthew chuckled a little under his breath.

"Fine," Arthur hissed, grabbing Alfred's stub with too much force.

"Iggy, stop, you're getting crumbs everywhere!"

"Oh, is that so? I'm sorry."

Even Ivan could tell the Briton wasn't being sincere, but he lessened his tight grip nonetheless.

"I wish I had hands, eh," Matthew whispered.

"That would be nice," Francis agreed, and patted the teacup on his rim. "But, besides," he added with a sidelong glance at the Russian, "I do not think it will take long before we're all human again."

"I hope you're right, just for the sake of my mind," Arthur grumbled. "It's very irritating being a clock. I dread every hour."

"Yeah, I miss wearing pants most of the time," Alfred said.

"_Most_ of the time?" Arthur snorted, but received no answer.

"I miss my glasses," Matthew said. "And being able to pet Kumajiji…"

"I thought you named your dog Kumajiro, Mattie," Alfred pointed out.

"… Eh? Did I…?" Matthew muttered, confused.

"Well, what needs to be done that will turn you all back into humans?" Ivan asked. "Because, da, I will do it."

"You're already helping enough, Monsieur," Francis said, wistful, and that seemed to be the end of the conversation.

They continued to walk down the halls, and Francis and Arthur were the only ones who stopped occasionally and pointed out doors, as it became apparent Alfred had no idea where the hell in the castle they were and Matthew was looking up and down every corridor for Kumajiro. These halls were the same as all the others—barren and looking empty of life. Ivan had spotted only one framed picture on the wall so far, but it was of someone he did not recognize. After an amount of time that seemed much too long, the five of them reached the kitchen.

"Ve, did you bring him?" a voice from inside questioned as soon as Francis pushed open the door. A collective wince went through all four objects at the sound of the grating voice. "Ve, Ludwig, it's Francis and Arthur and Alfred and… um…"

"It's Matthew, eh!" Matthew shouted. "Seriously?!"

"Calm down, it was an honest mistake, _mon cher_," Francis hushed him. Matthew huffed and rolled his eyes. The candelabrum then turned to Ivan, who was staring and observing the kitchen with awe. "This, _mon amour_, is where all the food gets prepared. The stove is our chef, Feliciano Vargas. Feliciano, this is Ivan Braginski."

"Hi, Ivan!" the stove chirped merrily, and then reached out and poked the oven next to him. "And the oven is my big brother, Romano! He's super cool, ve!"

"Shut the fuck up!" the oven hollered. "I'm trying to sleep!"

"Don't tell anybody, ve, but Ludwig said Romano's the oven because he's hot-headed," the stove whispered loudly, as if his brother wasn't right next to him.

"What did you say about me, potato bastard?!" the oven bellowed.

"See?" Feliciano said, smiling.

Ivan nodded disbelievingly. To him, Romano most definitely did not seem 'super cool'—Feliciano should have said something more along the lines of 'super dangerous'. Then, maybe, Ivan would have trusted his words.

"I'm surprised you didn't turn into a stupid potato!" the oven continued to rage on when a certain pint of beer appeared in sight.

"Ve, Ludwig! This is the man Alfred and Arthur were arguing about!" Feliciano gestured between Ivan and Ludwig. "Ivan, this is my best friend ever, Ludwig. Ludwig, this is Ivan, the Russian."

"Nice to meet you," the mug said.

"Da, likewise," Ivan stated, smiling and holding out his hand. The mug stared at it, and raised an eyebrow. Oh, right. Ivan blushed sheepishly and retracted his hand with a murmur of, "My apologies. So, you are beer?"

"Ja," Ludwig said.

"That is nice," Ivan began, "but vodka is better, da."

"… Okay, then," Ludwig sighed.

_Great, another crazy person_, the German thought, and could feel another headache coming on. God, he was already damned to hell by being stuck with the two loud Italians, one who happened to be his romantic interest, his brother, and the weird frying pan lady who was married to his friend, Roderich, the musician-turned-piano, and wanted to kill his brother every given chance. Did God just seem to want to make the flames of the underworld grow higher and consume him whole?

"Ludwig was strong as a human!" Feliciano sang. "I think Ivan and Ludwig should have a fight when the curse is broken, ve!"

"_Nein_!" Ludwig protested, his voice rising in volume when he noticed the way purple eyes sparked deviously. "Ah, no, I don't think that's a good idea…"

"Aww!" the Italian stove whined.

Arthur removed his hand from Alfred's to cover his ears.

"His voice irks me more than yours," he stated to the American.

Alfred sighed.

"I think we're done here," Matthew interrupted. "Come on, you guys, there's more important rooms and others to see…"

"But, I'm hungry…" Ivan said.

"You can just eat Alfred," Arthur offered.

"Love you too, old man," the hero grumbled.

---

"What are you four doing with Ivan, aru?!"

"Yao!"

Yao sighed, shaking his head and approaching the excitedly waving Russian. He took his time glaring at both Francis and Alfred, since those two were the ones who were normally the ones responsible for coming up with bad ideas. Yao always tried to stop them before said bad ideas could reach their culmination. If showing Ivan around the castle without him there to act as a buffer wasn't a bad idea, then Yao didn't know what was.

"Hello, Ivan," Yao greeted him, nodding. Ivan's smile widened so far he thought his face would crack. "So, you are all showing Ivan here around the castle? Without my permission, aru? And what made you think that was a good idea?"

"I was against it," Arthur put in crossly.

"You're against _all_ good ideas!" Alfred said.

"'Good', aru," Yao said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "I'm not so sure 'good' would be the adjective I'd use to describe this situation."

"We're all different, master," Francis drawled.

"They were just trying to be nice, Yao, da," Ivan defended them.

"You all still should have asked me first, aru."

Francis hung his head in shame, while Alfred kicked the floor repeatedly, whistled, and looked away. Arthur sent them both a glare. All Matthew wanted to do was pat his friends on the back consolingly, but instead mourned over the fact he had no arms to do it with.

"It's late. You should all go to sleep," Yao instructed. "I don't want all my workers to be tired tomorrow, aru."

"It'll be _fine_," Alfred assured him with a wave of his hand. "After all, I _am_ the hero, and part of my heroic duties is making sure everyone is taken care of! I've got it all under control. So, you can leave." He paused. "Now, please."

"You are such an immature twit, Alfred," Arthur said. "That's not how you talk to someone of authority."

"_Bed_, aru," Yao repeated, stern.

Alfred's spirits deflated. He could usually get past Yao and his orders with a few defiant words, but not this time.

"Let's just go back to the kitchen," Arthur suggested. "Ivan will still be here for to you mess with tomorrow."

"Okay…" Alfred murmured sadly. Francis gave a respectable bow to his master, and Matthew smiled, before they bounded off after Alfred and Arthur to the kitchen.

"Sorry," Yao apologized when his servants were out of sight. "They can get out of hand often, aru."

"It's fine, da. I like them," Ivan said. "The people in the kitchen were nice, except for the stove. And Vash and Lichtenstein in my room are nice, too."

"You met them? Just as a warning, aru, Vash doesn't really care for people other than his sister. He's not a fan of people who aren't like him. Have you met the vanity yet, aru?"

"No."

"Oh, then I won't ruin it for you. By the way… why are you only wearing your scarf, aru?"

"This?" Yao nodded when Ivan held up one of the ends of his scarf. "Oh, this was a present from my older sister, da. It reminds me of her…"

"O-Oh." Yao coughed. "That's nice. You didn't really have to stay here, aru."

"But I wanted to stay here!" Ivan said loudly, surprising the prince. "Yao is here, and he looked so lonely, da, even though Francis and company are here… But now I'm here, so it should be okay!"

"I'm not lonely, aru," Yao protested.

"If you say so."

Ivan smiled, not wanting to push it.

"It's really getting late," Yao said again, looking out a nearby window. "It's basically pitch black outside."

"I think the night is pretty, da," Ivan told him. "It kind of reminds me of you."

"Hmm, really."

"Da. As of today, both Yao and nighttime are things I like. I think they are both very beautiful."

Even though he was marveling over the fact the Russian's brain apparently had no filter, Yao smiled.

"Thank you, aru." Maybe the curse would be over soon? "Do go to bed. I'll spend time with you tomorrow."

"Okay! Tomorrow, then!"

Truthfully, Ivan couldn't wait.

* * *

**A/N**: Oh, Ivan, you are ever so smooth with the ladies... Well, Yao, in this case. Once again, when Ivan says he hurt his sister, that is still not me giving you permission to kill your sibling. I know there are crazy people out there. The word count in this chapter is approximately 2,407 words. Like? Dislike? Freaking _awesome_? Tell me :) Oh, and I may I lament to you about my life for a moment?

So, as I told you yesterday, I had a test on The Diary of Anne Frank: Scenes 1 and 2. Yes, well, during the test, our science teacher came to my homeroom room and handed out the science worksheets we have to do for homework. (We had missed science this morning because we went and heard a Holocaust victim speak at the local Jewish Community Center.) So, my friend who sits next to me, goes,

"What's an isotope?"

And I, being a freaking _genius_, felt the need to explain it to her. And then my teacher yelled at ME for talking. Okay, I probably shouldn't have been talking, I know, but seriously? I was only talking about isotopes. That has _soooo_ much to do with Anne Frank. Anne Frank just _looooved_ isotopes.

Yeah, that's it :)

Oh, and one question for you guys: After watching/reading Hetalia - Axis Powers, did you get an intense feeling of patriotism for your country?

Even though I'm an American, I did.


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N**: Can I just tell you guys how _SORRY_ I am for not updating yesterday?! I really wanted to write another chapter for my other story, Surf's Up! (you can go read it, if you want—that was shameless advertising, by the way), and then did part of my project, and by the time I got around to starting this, it was 11:30 at night! I hope you all understand :) If not, some intense stuff happens in the chapter. Hopefully, that should make up for my tardiness...?

* * *

Ivan wandered down the halls aimlessly, without Alfred, Arthur, Francis or… that other one—oh right, Matthew, guiding him. He had only been trying to find the kitchen, as he was hungry, but had taken too many wrongs turns and ended up lost in the vastness of Yao's castle. Almost all of the halls appeared the same, so it was going to be hard to find his way back to his bedroom or the kitchen, either one would do. The stony walls of the hall seemed to loom in front of him, endless and melancholy.

Though, as Ivan rounded another corridor, he was surprised. This hall actually looked fairly well kept. Pristine portrait after portrait and detailed landscape after landscape hung on the wall perfectly, as if they were placed there with a great amount of care. Vases and pots of all different sizes, colors, and designs were occasionally placed against the stone. Lights hung everywhere, illuminating the darkness and sending the unnerving shadows away. Ivan stopped in front of a certain painting, and gently ran his fingers over it.

Yao was painted in it, that much he could easily decipher, but who were the two other men?

He'd have to ask the prince later.

So far, he hadn't even seen Yao yet, and it was probably a little past noon! Yao said they would get to spend the day together… Ivan continued to trudge down the welcoming halls, trying to keep that fact from his mind. He was absolutely positive Yao was too busy or something to go back on his promise. He knew the Chinese man wouldn't purposely leave him hanging. Or, he hoped, at least.

Two heavy, intricately carved wooden doors were at the end of the hall, closed. Ivan advanced toward them. Now _that_ was certainly suspicious. The shiny, golden doorknobs only seemed to gild the lily. The doors were beautiful! Ivan could just stare at them all day long. But alas, curiosity got the best of him, and he pushed them open effortlessly.

It was dark. The only light that managed to seep into the room was of the afternoon sun's rays that courageously fought to shine through the closed curtains. A figured sat on the bed in the corner of the room, hunched over and lonely. Short sniffles and dismal sobs wracked with the sound of coughing resonated in the air.

Ivan had a feeling he knew who it was on the bed.

"Yao?" he called.

There was a long pause.

"… Ivan, is that you?" Yao's voice called out shakily. "What are you doing here, aru? Why did you come back here? Didn't they tell you to stay out of the left wing?!"

"Hmm, this is the left wing, da?" Ivan asked. "I like it."

"Of course the Russian likes the left wing, aru," Yao sighed, getting up from the bed. Ivan rather heard, not saw, Yao walk towards him and felt a hand rest on his arm. "Would you mind leaving me alone for a bit?"

"Da, I mind," Ivan said. "It's really dark in here. Have you ever thought about adding candles?"

"You need to leave, aru," Yao commanded, pushing him toward the door, but it was all in vain. Ivan stuck to the floor like a starfish stuck on a rock. "You're not allowed in my room."

"Oh, so this is Yao's room? No wonder the door was so pretty, da."

"Yes, it's my room, aru! Exactly the reason why you must vacate."

"… But…" Ivan couldn't just _leave_. "Yao sounds sad. Company makes everything better, da! Or do you not like me…?"

"I like you, aru. This is just a very personal matter."

"Well, I'm not leaving anytime soon, da. I wouldn't mind if you told me personal things! I promise not to tell anyone. Cross my heart and hope to die, da."

"… There's no getting past you, is there? Give me a moment to light some candles, aru."

Yao reached for the matches on his bureau, struck one up, and set aflame the wick of the candle on his fancy chest of drawers. He grimaced when he saw his haggard reflection in the mirror also set upon it.

"You… don't look so good."

Ivan's statement confirmed that he wasn't in his best shape.

"I'm fine, aru," Yao responded, wiping at his face with the edge of his sleeve. Ivan, who was looking at the floor and blushing, suddenly thrust a white cloth in his face.

"Here," he said. Yao looked at it, confused, and took the cloth into his hands. Wait, wasn't this Ivan's prized scarf from his older sister? "You can, um, use it. To dry your face, da. I… I don't mind. Ukraine would be happy to hear I'm helping someone else…"

"… Thank you, aru."

Yao was honestly surprised at Ivan's act of selflessness. He could feel his face also burst into flames as he rubbed underneath his eyes and his cheeks with the scarf. It was so nice, soft, and comforting. Ivan was still blushing like a man who'd had too many bottles of vodka when the Chinese man handed the other his article of clothing back. Ivan stared at the wet marks left on it, depressed.

What had made his Yao so upset?

"Why was Yao crying?" the Russian asked, lifting a hand and brushing away a stray tear the prince missed. "Yao is too pretty and nice to cry, da."

Yao sighed, looking away from the pure compassion shown in Ivan's violet eyes. He really had no concept of boundaries.

"Come with me," the prince said. Ivan nodded, and followed him out of the room. Yao continued to lead the Russian down the intricate set of halls, until he stopped in front of a painting. In fact, it was the same painting Ivan had marveled over and wondered about earlier, while lost.

"What, da?" Ivan asked.

"Do you see the two with me?"

"Da."

"They are my brothers, aru."

Ivan's eyes lit up with excitement and a smile spread across his lips. Yao wished he didn't quite look so pleasantly surprised.

"I have not met them yet! Where are they?"

"They're…" He paused. "Gone."

"Gone? Will they come back later?"

"No, aru. I don't think so."

"Why?"

"… They left of their own choice. It would be wrong of me to bring drag them back. They're not coming back, ever."

"Oh… Do you miss your brothers, Yao?"

"I do, aru." Yao pointed to the two figures in the painting beside him. "That is Im Yong Soo, my youngest brother, and the one in the middle is Kiku Honda."

"I'd miss my sister if she left me, too, so it's okay."

Yao knew Ivan was lying. After all, he'd said his sister had run away from him many, many times. And when he told him that, it didn't really sound as if he cared that she'd left. But Yao took it as an attempt at consolation, albeit an empty one.

"Here," Yao said, reaching into his pocket and handing Ivan a small, circular mirror. "This is… someone I also knew…"

"Oh." Ivan took the mirror carefully, admiring the ornate floral details on its pink border. Obviously, it was a girl. Well, hopefully, at the least. He ran his fingers over the glass and frowned when the mirror said nothing. He looked up at Yao, confused, and the other sighed again. "She doesn't talk."

"No, she doesn't, aru."

"What happened?"

"… She was my brother, Kiku's, fiancée. Her name was Taiwan." He tapped the glass in Ivan's hands. "She always liked my brother more than she liked me, so they became betrothed, aru. She possibly even liked him enough that it could be called 'love'. And I knew my brother loved her, also. When he left, he tried to convince her to leave with him, but for some reason, she wouldn't leave the castle… She said she was indebted to us."

"Why?"

"Im Yong Soo's father had found her when she was poor and orphaned. We took her in, aru. She thought that by leaving the castle, she'd be saying she wasn't thankful. I still think she should've gone with him, aru…"

"Why does she not talk?"

"She became a nervous wreck the day after he left, and then… I was cursed… and she turned into that mirror. She doesn't speak, but she's my only connection to the outside world, aru. Watch." Yao gently pried the mirror from Ivan's clenched hands. Ivan had unknowingly gripped it tight during the story. "Let me demonstrate." Yao held the mirror up and shouted, "Show me Kiku Honda!"

The mirror flashed and a pink colored glow seemed to form around it. Ivan looked over the prince's shoulders and saw figures moving around and being animated in the glass. A very apathetic, emotionless man appeared. He looked just like the middle brother in the painting, only a bit older.

"This is Kiku," Yao told him. "I keep an eye on him the most, aru."

"Da. He doesn't look very happy."

"He hasn't for a long time, aru." Yao exhaled loudly, feeling tears spring back to life in his eyes. "He hasn't smiled once since I've been checking up on him. He misses Taiwan, aru…"

"He should have stayed here!" Ivan growled, fierce.

"No, aru, he wanted his own empire and everything that came with it. This is what he wanted. It wouldn't be right for Taiwan or I to influence his decision, and we both knew it."

"What about your other brother?"

"Im Yong Soo?" Yao snorted. "Oh, he's fine. He still gropes people unexpectedly and claims to have invented everything. That's why there's a lack of items in this castle, actually, aru. He claimed to have invented it all and took it with him."

"Did he?"

"… No, aru."

"Da, I see. He is a liar."

"Once again, no. He's just a naïve child, aru."

"Da…"

"Let's stop focusing on me." Yao held the mirror out for Ivan to take again. "Did you see how I got it to show me my brother, aru? You try. Just tell it who you want to see most!"

"My sister, my sister!" Ivan grabbed the thing from his hands quickly and held onto it as if it were a lifeline. Yao smiled. Ivan really did love his sister. "My sister, Taiwan, show me her! I want to see Ukraine!"

The mirror switched from the figure of a blithe man sitting on his throne to a young woman cleaning a room. Ivan frowned. Why was his sister going through his things? In the mirror's hazy image, Ukraine picked up a red coat, and stuffed it into a bag. She removed all pictures from the top of Ivan's dresser and also threw them into the bag, each one making a _crack_ sound as it hit the bottom of the bag settled on the floor. She was mouthing something, muttering under her breath, but Ivan couldn't hear what.

"Why would she do such a thing?" he asked, more to himself and the walls than to the man standing across from him. Yao also frowned and looked into the mirror.

Ukraine continued to forcefully pull drawers from the dresser, and dumped their contents into the bag. She grabbed another when the first one threatened to overflow. She removed the afghan and quilts from the Russian's bread and stuffed them into a bag of its own. Ivan's sister scowled when she came across bottles of vodka, some empty, some half full, underneath his bed. Ivan jerked when she grabbed one, and hurled it against the wall, the bottle breaking into many shards of glass.

"What is she doing, da?"

"I don't know, aru."

"… It's like she's trying… to get rid of me."

"I don't think—"

"No! She's trying to get ride of me… I… I thought I was her younger brother? That she loved?"

"She does love you. I'm sure of it, aru."

"Then why would she be doing that?"

"Maybe having you gone is too painful to bear."

Yao spoke from experience. Only Arthur's calm persuasion kept him from tearing apart everything in sight, but Ukraine had no one to hold her back. She had no one to hold her back from taking that one last step over the border and into the land of insanity.

A ripping sound reverberated through the hall when Ivan's older sister tore apart one of his shirts.

"I think you should go back, aru," the prince said honestly.

"No! I cannot go back, now, da… Not after Yao told me everything."

"You have to, aru. It's your duty."

"My duty is now with Yao!" Ivan looked resolute. "I don't care about her! She can tear up my things and ruin my vodka and remove me from _her_ life, because now I'm in _yours_, da!"

"Are you sure? I'm offering you your freedom, and the chance to go back and live happily with your sister."

"But… I want to live happily with Yao. And Alfred, and Arthur, and Francis, and… that teacup, whatever his name is! And I like Feliciano and Ludwig, and it's fun to annoy Vash, da! The vanity, Gilbert, is very funny, too! And the piano; he plays pretty music. I can't leave! This place is my home now!"

"… Very well, then."

Arthur and Alfred exchanged identical looks from their hiding place behind the wall.

They both seemed to say, '_This should be over soon_'.

* * *

**A/N**: If anyone cares, the approximate word count is 2,252. No, no, don't worry :) It won't be over too soon! Arthur and Alfred just suck at being able to foresee things. The only thing Arthur can see is his creepy faerie friends, and that's only because a delusional old man. Fuck, I sounded like Alfred. Yeah, I'm American, all right... Oh, and I got a 98 on that Anne Frank test. Hell yeah! May I share with you a funny story about one day at school earlier in the year?

So, during a false fire alarm, our crazy social studies teacher ran down the halls yelling, "IF THERE WAS AN ACTUAL FIRE, YOU WOULD ALL BE DEAD! RUN! YOU ALL DESERVE TO DIE!"

I think _someone_ had too much sugar that day...

For all of you who read that, I have some _actual_ questions for you. Like, legit.

Query the first: Who is your favorite Hetalia - Axis Powers character?

Query the second: Do you say 'Axis Powers Hetalia' or 'Hetalia Axis Powers'?

I say 'Hetalia Axis Powers', but I abbreviate it 'APH'. Hmm...


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N**: TIME SKIIIP. Because that's just how I roll. The next part is _kind of_ angsty…? It was a fail attempt at angst, okay? Don't poke fun :P I'm much more of a 'yay-everything's-happy-and-made-of-sunflowers-and-vodka' type of person than a 'the-world-is-covered-by-a-shadow-of-dark-nothingness-and-there-is-no-hope' person. So. I'm trying some angst. Forgive me. But, it gets better and more pointless toward the end… :D

* * *

The season of fall had somehow quickly morphed into the harsh coldness of winter, the change going unnoticed by either the prince, his 'prisoner', or his servants-turned-household objects. Arthur stood outside with Alfred, palm open and staring as snow fell onto it. Had it really been that long already? Alfred was shivering, most likely from being outside with no pants on, but that was beside the fact and the point was moot. Arthur's focus of view changed from his hand to out past the castle gates, and then looked back at his hand again, now lightly dusted with snow. Why weren't they human yet?

Alfred seemed to share the same sentiment, and they looked at each other desperately for a moment.

"I don't understand," the Briton murmured. "I don't get it. I just _don't_."

"Me neither," Alfred responded.

"Why isn't it working?" Arthur grumbled. "It should have worked by now! This is so frustrating! All I want is to be human again! Is that really too much to ask?! Besides, it wasn't even my fucking fault that the curse happened! Why were _we_ punished?! I'm a mantel clock, engaged to a damn gingerbread biscuit!"

"… Cookie, Arthur. _Cookie_."

"What the bloody hell is a cookie?!"

Alfred sighed.

"The curse will go away soon. I hope so," he said. It was so cold outside his tiny gingerbread breaths could be seen in the air. "This isn't how I expected us to spend our time together, either. But we'll make do."

"How do you expect us to simply 'make do'? _How_?"

"I don't know." Alfred frowned. "I'm the hero, though, so I'll think of something."

"You had better." Arthur glared at the snow.

Too much time was passing. Both Arthur and Alfred knew that Yao's rose was almost dead, and they was sure the Chinese man was aware of the fact, too. While it wasn't possible to force people to fall in love, the clock sure as hell wished it was. All he wanted was to be held by Alfred again and kiss him until he couldn't breathe. Not that he would ever admit that to the American by his side, though.

"We'll be confined to this castle forever, and I'll be forced to live eternally as a half-dressed gingerbread man with glasses to his face," Alfred groaned to himself, but Arthur overheard.

"And I'll be a clock that chimes every hour."

"We make for an interesting pair, huh, Iggy?"

Alfred's attempt to lighten up the mood fell flat on its face when he didn't even get a reply. Arthur's silence was unnerving, and the American began to fidget. Usually, the Briton would have come up with some snide remark or started yelling by now. He didn't even make a face at the way gingerbread called him 'Iggy'.

All Alfred could do was pat his lover's back and whisper reassurances, ones that he didn't even really believe himself, when the mantel clock finally collapsed in the snow, broke down, and relentlessly shook with tearless sobs.

---

The snow falling down had everyone in the kitchen in a stupor. Some, like Feliciano, were excited about the change in seasons. But others—smarter, more intelligent ones—were thinking about what would happen if the curse didn't break. Smart ones meaning Ludwig, as everybody else in the kitchen was a basket case. The mug of beer sighed, and continued to stare Feliciano. He didn't know what he would do if the stove and him would never be humans again. The oven, a somewhat intelligent one, was also contemplating something along those lines. What would he do without that Spanish bastard?

Feliciano still remained happily oblivious.

"Don't you care?!" Romano suddenly shouted, startling everyone and breaking the strained silence. The tension in the air was so thick it could be cut with a knife. Feliciano looked at him, confused. Then again, when wasn't he confused? "You're just sitting there like a dumbass! Don't you understand what's going to happen if that creepy Russian doesn't break the curse?! We're going to be fucking _stuck_ like this. Forever!"

"Ve?" the younger brother said.

"You'll never be able to do anything with that potato bastard ever again!" Romano continued on. "Not even hug, because he's a mug of beer and you're a fucking _stove_."

"Hey!" said mug of beer intervened, sensing another fight, and another intense headache. "Calm yourself down."

"You should care, too!" Romano said furiously. "You want to kiss my brother again in that way you always did that pissed me off?! Yeah, well, good luck trying that again! The curse isn't broken, and I'm starting to think it never will be! This is ridiculous!"

"Ve, Romano, don't be so mean," Feliciano chastised him.

"I'm not being fucking mean!" Romano sighed. "I'm just telling the truth."

If ignoring the truth kept him hopeful and optimistic, Feliciano would just keep doing that. He didn't want to end up like his brother—all antagonistic but really fragile hearted underneath. Feliciano wondered how Antonio put up with him sometimes…

---

"Eh… it's snowing, Francis."

"I know, _mon amour_, I know…"

Matthew sighed, and Francis patted the teacup's rim.

"It's winter. We're almost out of time," the Canadian pointed out.  
"_Oui_."  
"What are we going to do? What is everyone _else_ going to do, eh?"

"I do not know, _mon cher_. All I know is that I will still love you—regardless of you're state of matter. Human or teacup, I'll take you any way, Matthieu. _Je t'aime_. I'm not so sure what the others will want to do, though…"

"If we don't turn back into humans, I highly doubt my brother will ever get married. It's so sad…"

"It is. But even if it does not work, we'll still be together, _oui_? You need to look on the bright side of things, _mon amour_."

Though the candelabrum really believed there to be no bright side to the situation at hand, any words he could say to keep Matthew calm and not distressed were going to come out of his mouth, whether he too considered them truthful or not. All of his efforts were in vain when the teacup heaved a sigh, turned away from the window, and dragged himself down the hallway to go find his brother.

---

Yao twirled the partially dead white rose in his nimble fingers, looking outside his window, which had a view of the front of the castle. A scowl marred his face when he saw Alfred and Arthur clinging to each despairingly other in the falling snow. Francis and Matthew then went outside and rescued them, forcefully dragging them back into the castle. Yao wanted to crush the rose in his hands with angry frustration.

It as his entire fault this had happened. If only he hadn't acted to rashly…

No, he reminded himself, it would not do well to think like that. Especially not while the sounds of boots joyfully clomping down the hallway sounded in the distance. Oh, Ivan, he was so unaware of everything and why Yao's servants were household objects. Actually, he hadn't even questioned that fact, and for that, the prince was glad. It would be awkward explaining what happened, and no doubt would the Russian feel obligated to do something.

Yao didn't want the other to feel inclined to fall in love with him only to save him, and the others, from this misery.

He hurriedly tossed the rose into his open drawer and shut it when Ivan's footsteps got closer. The door was thrown open to his room without even a knock and Ivan's cheerful voice floated to him quickly.

"Yao, Yao! It's snowing outside! Da, did you see?!" Ivan shouted, walking over to him and grabbing his shoulders jovially. The Russian's violet eyes shone brightly in the dark room with childish feverishness. "The ground is covered in snow! We should go outside and play!"

Well, then. That was completely uncalled for.

"… What?"

"I _said_ we should go out and play, da! We should get everyone, and make them come play with us outside! I don't like winter, but the atmosphere today is so _down_. I think everyone would feel better if they had fun! It's a good idea, da!"

"I-I'm not sure about that, aru…" Yao muttered.

"No, it's going to be great. I know this, Yao! You should trust me!"

"I trust you. I just don't think everybody's excited over the weather or how prominent the change in the seasons is now, aru."

"So, we get them excited, da! Building snowmen is fun, too. The winter is also a time where you can get your enemies easily!" Ivan smiled. "I was the best person at winning snowball fights, did you know? Da, I used to beat Ukraine so easily! She would get sad when she lost that she would cry! It was very humorous."

"That's… err… nice… But it's still not a wonderful idea."

"It is, da. Trust me. When I was younger, and lived in my old village, it snowed all the time! I know what I am talking about. Playing in the snow is the most fun."

"… And if we play, aru, do we have invite everybody?"

"Da! The whole fun is getting to snow throw in other people's faces and making them beg for mercy! That's the best part. It would be especially fun to see what Alfred does, da. He would probably be a worthy opponent…"

"Do _I_ have to play?"

Getting pelted to death with snow by a Russian and begging for mercy didn't seem like a fun way to spend the first snowfall.

"Da, but we can be on the same team. Yao and I will play against the other four? Does Yao agree to be my snowball fight partner?"

"… Fine, aru."

---

Matthew was the first to crack and begrudgingly agreed to go play outside, causing Francis to also agree to play. Arthur wanted nothing to do with the snow, but then Alfred had persuaded him to come outside and play at least one game. And so, everyone eligible to play stood outside, shivering. Well, everyone except for Ivan, who was not felled by the drop in temperature. Rather, he found the coldness welcoming.

"Da, okay. This is how you play," he explained. "First, you make teams. Yao and I are a team, and then it's Alfred, Arthur, Francis, and… um… oh, right, Matthew. Then, you build a fort! Just pile snow together to make a wall-type thing. Then, throw snowballs. Whichever team announces their surrender first loses. Everyone understands, da?"

There was a murmur of consent throughout the group.

"Oh, and as a little hint, you should aim for someone's faces or their vital regions. They are the most painful places to get hit, da."

"… Do we have to play?" Arthur asked Yao, who was also a little disgruntled at being dragged outside by the large Russian. "I don't want him to smash my face or vital regions with snowballs."

"Um… Are you sure we can't do something else, aru?" the prince asked.

"… But I was really looking forward to this, da."

"Well… what about that other thing you mentioned? Snowmen, aru? How about we do that instead?"

"… Can we still be on the same team?"

"Yes, aru."

"Fine. Then we shall make snowmen. But, next winter, or when everyone is human, we are having a snowball fight, da!"

"If there even is a bloody next winter," Arthur grumbled. The gingerbread man elbowed him in the side.

"_Mon amour_, there will be a next winter. Whether or not we'll human enough to enjoy is it the question," Francis added.

"I'm not your damn love!"

"Wait, speaking of love, I have an idea!" Alfred said, leaping up.

"Hopefully not another idea that somehow made Monsieur Arthur engaged to you, _non_?"

"Haha, Francis, you're so funny, _what are you talking about_." Alfred glared at the Frenchman, gaze stern. "That's kind of a secret."

"Oops," Francis chuckled.

"Burn in hell," was the only thing Arthur said in reply.

"Anyway…" Alfred sighed, rubbing his gingerbread stubs together in an ineffective way to gain more heat. "Yao, Yao!"

"What is it, aru?" the prince responded.

"_I _have an idea!"

Yao blanched.

"Oh… do you?"

"Yeah, and it's great!" Alfred assured him. Yao raised an eyebrow, skeptical. Half of Alfred's idea were most certainly _not_ great, and had disastrous outcomes. Ivan also seemed to have realized this, because he was silently shaking his head and forcing back a bit of laughter. "So, here's the plan; _We_ leave, and you and Ivan came make that snowman thing together, okay? We'll get Feliciano to make dinner for you and put it on the table when you get back, so you two can have dinner together, also! See, I told you it was great."

"… Um…"

"Da, that does sound great!" Ivan agreed quickly. "Alfred is smart sometimes!"

"That's because I'm the hero. Duh," Alfred deadpanned, rolling his eyes.

"We can have lots of fun building a snowman, Yao," Ivan began, and entwined his arms with Yao's. "It's just like what all the boys in my old town would do with all the girls, da! Only, you're not a girl. But you're just as pretty as one! Yao is very pretty…"

"Eh, you've got to be kidding me," Matthew sighed.

"What?" Francis asked.

"How is this _not_ over yet?!" Matthew yelled. Well, to him, it was a yell. To anyone else who was listening carefully, they had to strain to hear. It was, in all actually, more like a whisper. "Ivan's obviously enamored..."

"_Oui_. Seems as if we know who's not holding up their end of the bargain," Francis stated quietly.

* * *

**A/N**: YAO HOW COULD YOU. No, just kidding. Bet you didn't see Alfred and Arthur being engaged coming, hmm...? Well, didn't I tell you there was a surprise this chapter? No? Well, oops... There you go. Those two are so _scandalous_. (Yes, let's just pretend guy/guy marriage is acceptable in the universe, okay?) I'll be sure to warn you next time something (un)surpising is coming up. I'm chock full of (not) surprises. That's just how I roll.

Oh, and if anyone cares, the approximate word count is 2,289.

The next chapter should be a bit longer :/ Sorry about this one, you guys!

Listen, let me just tell you all how happy I am you guys are reviewing and telling me you like it. That just makes me want to write not only for my enjoyment, but also for you guys :) Really. Please, if you've reviewed, give yourself a pat on the back. Hell, even if you _haven't_, but you're reading/liking it, give yourself a pat :) It's you guys who keep me motivated!


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N**: _SORRY_!! Please don't kill me for not updating yesterday… A friend slept over, and I'm also working on a (somewhat long) one-shot. Well, that and another chapter for my other story. By the way, to sort of make up for my tardiness, this chapter is sort of intense…? Okay, no, not really, but still. Do enjoy :) I try my hardest to please you guys!

* * *

So far, the snowman was almost finished. Ivan had disappeared a moment ago to go break two branches off a tree for arms. Yao spotted him walking back with a load twigs in his arms, and frowned. Granted, most of the trees around his castle were already dead and almost painful to look at, but just how many trees had Ivan decided to take a whack at? Yao hoped that at least not every tree was now desecrated.

"Why did you take so many branches, aru?" he asked when Ivan came close enough to hear. He inspected the bundle in the other's arm. "Was that really necessary?"

"Da!" Ivan replied cheerily, dumping all the twigs in his hands on the snowy ground. "See? Not all branches were the same size, and it would be bad for a snowman to have different sized arms." He bent over and picked up two branches that looked to be about the same size. "It took me forever to find these, da. I figured we could use the rest build a bonfire later. My sister and I used to sit by them on logs when we were little, and eat snacks. Sometimes, the other little children in our village would come over, too, when they saw the smoke rising."

"Oh, did you have a lot of friends?" Yao asked.

"No, only one, and he was only an acquaintance. His name was Joseph, but sometimes I thought he was only taking advantage of me for his own personal gain," Ivan said, shaking his head. "Nobody really wanted to be my friend."

"That must have been horrible. Why didn't they like you, aru? You never really told me about your past," Yao said. Ivan shrugged. "I'm sorry if I'm prying. You don't need to tell me, aru."

"No, no!" the Russian denied that statement quickly. "It was just that it all happened a long time ago, and I tried to forget it, da. Are you sure you want to hear it? I don't want bore you…"

"You wouldn't bore me."

"Da, only if you are sure, then." Ivan scratched the side on his head, and left his spot by Yao to stick the arms on the snowman and inspect the finished product. He didn't want to look at the prince as he explained. If he started tearing up, that would surely be embarrassing. "Well, when my older sister and I were very, _very_ little, we lived in a tiny farming community. And then a disease swept through the town, killing my father and mother, and it made Ukraine very sick."

"That's—"

"I'm not finished." He took a deep breath. "Even though she was very sick, we still had to work on the farm so we would not die. I think all that hard work while ill made her not so right in the head. As we were the dirty, orphaned children, nobody wanted to play with us. The only reason they came to our house when we lit the bonfires was because they thought our house had caught on fire, and maybe they were finally rid of us.

"Then, as we got older, it became apparent that only Ukraine was good at the farm work. Da, she was a very good farmer! I was no good, so I became a carpenter! When I finished with my apprenticeship, I convinced my sister that we should move away and start over somewhere new. That's when we moved to the town we… well, _I_ used to live in. I became the town's carpenter, da, and Ukraine had her little garden behind the house. But the people in that village were not nice to me, either, da!" Yao watched sympathetically as Ivan grabbed one of the snowman's stick arms and then jammed it back into its body so forcefully that snow went flying. "They started to call me the beast.

"I thought they were complimenting me because they liked how strong I was, but no! They were _joking_!" The Russian kicked some of the snow on the ground with his boot. "And then they started to call me that more often, and my older sister started to run away more, too. The only person who really ever _liked_ me was Natalia, but she was—no, _is_ crazy. She is very pretty, da, but very insane."

"… We like you here, aru," Yao said, for lack of any better words or comments, and placed a comforting hand on Ivan's shoulder. "You said this is your home now. Here." He handed Ivan the ever-present mirror from his pocket. "Why don't you check up on your sister and see how things are going over at your other home, aru?"

"No," Ivan said, pushing Taiwan back into the Chinese man's hands. "This is _our_ time, da! Not my time to cry about what happened to me. What happened has happened, da, and I cannot change it. What I work for is a better future! One with Yao in it everyday! One where everyone is human!"

"Some day, aru, some day…" Yao rubbed his hand up and down Ivan's arm consolingly. The Russian thanked him quietly, gratefully, and gave the prince a bone-crushing hug. He let go, and had an excited look on his face—one that Yao didn't like.

"What can I do to make everyone human again?" Ivan asked happily.

"… That's a secret, aru," Yao said. He felt bad when Ivan's face fell momentarily, especially because the man had just spent the last ten minutes telling him very personal things about his childhood. He decided to change the subject. "Well, the snowman is finished. How about we go inside and get something to eat? I'm hungry, aru."

"… Da, okay."

---

"Feliciano made pasta, I see," Yao stated.

"Did you expect anything else?" Alfred asked as he hopped up onto the table with his lover.

Truthfully, Yao didn't, but still. He made his way over to his chair, but before he could get it himself, Ivan pulled out the chair for him chivalrously and then pushed it back in once he sat down. Really, could Ivan or this situation make him feel any guiltier? Here he was, withholding important information from the Russian, and yet the other still trusted him blindly. Alfred coughed to get his attention.

"Yes, aru?" he asked.

"I have another idea!" Alfred said, clapping once.

"Oh god, you don't!" Arthur complained. "I thought you were joking!"

"It's great. So far, all of _my_ ideas have turning out well. How many awesome ideas have you come up with so far? That's right, none. So be quiet," Alfred said. Arthur simply glared at him, offended, and crossed his arms. "As I was saying! I think the last time we used to ballroom, we were celebrating Kiku's engage—" The clock elbowed him. "… I mean, it was a _really_ long time ago. I think you and Ivan should go have fun and break it in some! What do you say?"

"No," Yao responded automatically, and calmly began eating.

"But…" The gingerbread man sighed. "I already persuaded Ludwig to go ask Roderich to provide music! And the piano actually said he would! Come on, Yao!"

"No," the prince repeated.

"I think we should dance," Ivan suggested. "Dancing is fun!"

"Do you know how to dance?"

"… Well, no. But I think you should teach me!"

"Maybe I'll think about it, aru."

Needless to say that meant 'yes'.

"Awesome!" Alfred cheered, pumping his fist in the air like a true hero. "I told you this would work, Arthur. When we're human again, you totally owe me lots."

"What exactly do I owe you?" the clock asked sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, I have something in mind, but it's not exactly appropriate dinner table material," the gingerbread man said lewdly, and winked.

Yao choked.

"I don't want to know, aru!" he said, shooing them off of the table. "Francis has been a bad influence on all of you!"

"… I'm finished with my dinner," Ivan stated. He pushed the plate away from him. Matthew hopped out of the kitchen and instructed for the Russian to follow him. "Da, I will, but why?"

"Eh, you'll see!" the teacup said delightedly as he continued to hop out of the dining room, Ivan and Francis hot on his heels. "Hurry, hurry! We have lots to do, eh! Vash and Lichtenstein are waiting for us!"

Once they left, Yao turned to the sheepish looking gingerbread, and the scowling clock.

"You had this all planned, didn't you, aru?" he asked.

"I had nothing to do with it!" Arthur shouted, throwing his arms up in the arm, narrowly missing hitting Alfred's gingerbread head and almost breaking it right off. "Trust me when I say most of the ideas so far were Alfred's, with a few tweaks from Francis."

"Why do you keeping coming up with these plans, aru?" Yao sighed.

"Because!" The gingerbread started to scale his leg and landed in his lap. "You were really lonely, man. This place was about as lively as a graveyard. And then Ivan came along, and bam! It suddenly became a little happier! You weren't as mopey, and you stopped blaming yourself for everything that's happened. You forgot all about the curse! He'll break it, I know. We're just giving you that extra little push in the right direction."

"I don't need—"

"You don't need it?" Alfred snorted. "Uh, _yeah_, you do. Did you tell him about the curse?"

"… Well, no, aru, but… I just didn't want him to feel like he owed me anything!"

"Listen to me, Yao. That guy couldn't like you anymore than he already does, no matter how hard he tried," the gingerbread man explained, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You're beauty, and he's the beast. It's the whole 'opposites attract' thing Francis told me about. Seriously, the guy loves you. Tell him about the curse. What's there to lose?"

"How about the fact that once I tell him that, he's going to realize the curse isn't broken, and something is missing? I like Ivan, just not that much, aru." Yao stood up from his chair, and it made such an angry clattering noise that he cringed. "I… don't want to hurt him." With that, Yao turned away and stalked off for his bedroom.

"Good going, you sodding git," Arthur grumbled.

"When someone says something like that, you know that it's love," Alfred sighed. "He doesn't want to hurt him? Why does everyone _but_ those two realize they're so head-over-heels for each other?"

"Because we were _so_ much different."

"It was mostly your fault."

"_My_ fault?! How was it my bloody fault that—"

"Be quiet, aru!" Yao's shrill voice carried back from the hallway.

"… Look at what you did now, Iggy."

---

"You have many different kinds of clothes here, da."

"Do you know many cultures clash together in this castle, eh?" Matthew said as he rummaged through the clothes folded neatly inside Lichtenstein's drawers. Francis was busy digging through the vestments that were in the armoire. "Eh, Francis, I think Ivan would look good in a suit."

"_Oui_, maybe," the candelabrum agreed halfheartedly. "Ivan, go see Gilbert! Feliks is helping Yao get ready right now, as I'm sure Alfred has said something stupid enough to make him storm off to room in a display of angst, so we need to hurry up! Gilbert, _mon amour_, are you all set over there?"

"Awesome is always ready!" the vanity answered haughtily. Ivan plopped down on the stool to the vanity, oblivious to the way Gilbert was eyeing him. "You're going to need some fixing up, damn it. Where is that Spanish guy when you need him?"

"Right here, mi hermano!" Antonio, who happened to be a neglected guitar that mostly stayed in the far corner of the room, called back. He walked over and stood next to Gilbert. "Ah, qué necesitas? What do you need?"

"We need make Ivan look awesome, or else we'll never be human again," Gilbert explained.

"Missing your hand already, amigo?" the Spaniard joked, and continued without waiting for a reply. "I think he looks muy guapo. Very handsome. He's good! But he could use a bit of hair brushing."

"Yeah," the vanity agreed. "Brush your hair."

"Sí, look at el espejo. The mirror," Antonio instructed.

Ivan did as he was told and began brushing his hair with a brush that hadn't been there yesterday, but somehow was now.

"Do you like Yao, mi amigo?" the guitar asked nonchalantly.

"Like?" Ivan repeated. "Da, I like Yao very much."

"How _much_ do you like him?" Antonio prodded.

"… Hmm… A lot," Ivan decided, nodding.

"Do you love him?"

"I don't know. What's love supposed to feel like?"

"Ah, mi hermano, you sadden me so! Ah, sweet amor! Love! It's that fuzzy feeling you get inside when you even do so much as look at the person who you love! It makes you do loco, crazy things! I speak from experience!"

"Oh?"

"Sí! Do tell me you've met the oven!"

"Da, I have."

"Ah, él es mi amor! He is my love!"

"Romano's going to kick your ass if he finds out you're saying that kind of stuff," Gilbert added in with a laugh.

"It doesn't matter! What I say is true!" The guitar sighed dreamily. "That's why we must end this curse as quickly as possible! … You can stop attacking your hair now, amigo. It looks fine. Go let Francis and Matthew dress you up!"

"Thank you, comrade!"

As soon as Ivan walked away, Antonio turned to his Prussian friend.

"This isn't over yet?" he sighed. "I'm almost about to lose faith in dios! God! This is very unfair."

"Yeah. My awesome is being totally wasted if I'm a stupid vanity," Gilbert replied.

"I wonder how Feliks is doing with Yao…"

---

"If you would just, like, _hold still_!"

"Don't touch my hair, aru!"

* * *

**A/N**: **First** of all, anything Spanish that Antonio said was just me showing off my Spanish skills, okay? That was a shameless display of mad skills right there, even if my Spanish is probably only at a kindergar(t?)den level. **Second**, did anyone catch that Ivan's friend's (the one who took advantage of him) name was Joseph? As in Joseph Stalin? That was me showing off my skills at being subtle. Please, if you didn't get that, I just told you the joke. I know you're going to scroll back up, see if it's really there, and then laugh. I know. **Third**, if you're wondering why the Spanish isn't italicized, but the French is, that's because everything Francis says in French just automatically deserves to be in italics. I mean, really? Come on, you guys. **Fourth**, sorry if that was a bit rushed. Well, the next chapter they're going to be all romantic and stuff. Which leads me to...

A BIG QUESTION FOR ALL OF YOU: Should the next... say... two chapters be the end (it will diverge from the Disney ending and just be all happy and gay and have Alfred be like, 'Fuck yeah, _pants_!'), or should I bring in Natalia and have it kind of end like the movie did? Feedback, please! Let's see if we can get enough answers by the time I will (probably) update this tomorrow!

**Fifth**, sorry if Ivan's story was depressing. I feel so bad for him. I want to punch myself for making him so unhappy. **Sixth**, I have a feeling Yao is very defensive over his hair. **Seventh**, I like to bold things. You know, in case you haven't noticed.


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N**: Once again, LATE. I'm still so very sorry to you all for making you wait for this! But you know what got me motivated to write? The Trans-Siberian Orchestra! (Why, yes, I am also a music nerd, thank you for noticing) I just found their Christmas CD my friend gave to me a couple years ago (her uncle is part of the orchestra), popped it in my computer, listened to it, and fell in love with it all over again. So, if you get the chance, be sure to check it out, okay? But, if it's humorous to anyone, this song especially made me want to write: Mad Russian's Christmas (Instrumental).

Hopefully, this long chapter will make up for my lateness. (Probably not, but hey! I tried.)

* * *

"I… don't think I can do this," Ivan stated nervously as he fiddled with his scarf and looked in the mirror. Francis and Matthew had shoved him into some random monkey suit they had found while rooting through the closet Ivan had never noticed was in his room, but at least they had let him keep his scarf as sort of a safety blanket. Antonio balked at his doubtful words.

"No, no, you will! Por supuesto! Of course! Surely, this will work!" the guitar said reassuringly. "I am putting all of my faith in you! You know what you do? After a bit of dancing… well, after Yao teaches you how to… you tell him 'Te amo'! Say it loudly and convincingly! That is what you do."

"No, that's not what you do, eh," Matthew grumbled. He wanted to elbow the guitar, but he still had no arms. "Yao doesn't speak Spanish, Antonio."

"Who are you, again?" Antonio asked. He had no recollection of there ever being a teacup living in the castle.

"M-Matthew!" the teacup yelled back, but the guitar barely heard, because the other's yell was still a whisper.

"Listen," Francis began, hopping up Gilbert's vanity surface and coming face to face with the Russian. "You don't have time to be so skittish and on edge! You need to act like a dashing and chivalrous gentleman! _Oui_! Be bold, be brave! There's going to be music, a romantic atmosphere… You dance until the night grows old. And then, when the time is right, you confess your love to him!"

"… Love?" Ivan repeated, biting his lip.

"_Oui_, _amour_," Francis said.

"Da, but I still don't understand. What is it supposed to feel like?" Ivan asked.

"… I suppose it's different for everyone," the candelabrum mused.

"It's awesome," Gilbert added.

"Oh, I beg your pardon?" Arthur snorted haughtily, crossing his arms and glaring at Gilbert fiercely. "You wouldn't know romance if it walked right up to you and slapped you on the face. 'Hey, I'm awesome, do you want to engage in private activities with me? Preferably in a bed, but on the floor works, too' does not constitute the beginning of a passionate relationship, as you seem to believe."

"I—"

"Nor does peeking up someone's skirt, as evidenced by your failed attempts to 'get with'," here the clock added air quotes, "Elizabeta."

"I have _never_—"

"I'm going to tell Elizabeta you were just about to deny that." Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Yes, I went there."

"Is it your job to make everything less fun?" Gilbert grumbled. "Because you do it pretty damn well. Alfred, how can you put up with this guy who's always got a stick up his ass? Almost everyone in this castle needs to take a break."

"What do you think we're doing now?" Arthur said, gesturing to Ivan. "This man right here is our lucky break. Hopefully."

"Da, I help," Ivan said, smiling and nodding.

"Come, come, and let's go!" Francis said, hopping off of Gilbert and leading his friends and Ivan out of the Russian's ornate room.

"We're going to be human again!" Alfred cheered, shaking his clock friend quite rapidly. All other previous occupants of Ivan's room watched their conversation unfold amusedly, except Ivan himself, who was still messing with his scarf and looking very apprehensive. "Can you believe it?! _Human_, Arthur! I'll be able to wear pants, and take my glasses off, and kiss you, and hug you—but mostly kiss you—when this whole thing is over!"

"Don't get your hopes up!" Arthur shouted back, and shoved the nuisance away. "What do you propose we do if this _doesn't_ work, hmm?"

"Don't be so negative! This _will_ work—I know it! Even Ludwig and Vash said they know it will work, and they're two of the biggest stick-in-the-mud type of people we know!" the gingerbread man continued to prattle on and on. "Even including you!"

"I'll ignore that last comment. Did they actually _say_ that to you?"

"… Well, no, but I know they were thinking it! After all, I _am_ the hero."

"Of _course_ you are."

---

"This has bad idea written all over it. Remind me to tell Alfred to never share any more of his ideas out loud, aru," Yao hissed. "Ivan told me doesn't know how to dance. What are we supposed to do, aru? I consider myself to be a pretty positive individual, but right now, I see no bright sides to this situation."

"Oh, it'll be fine!" Tino, a feather duster, reassured his master as he nudged him forward.

"_Fine_, aru? Perhaps you didn't hear the part where I said _he doesn't know how to dance_," Yao repeated, putting more inflection on the last part. There was no point in even doing this if Ivan couldn't dance.

"So you teach him!" Tino suggested with a smile.

"I once tried to teach Yong Soo how to dance," Yao reminded the feather duster. Tino's smile faltered a bit as he recalled those memories. "He deliberately stepped on my foot every time so that I would get mad and make Kiku teach him, aru. It worked, but instead of dancing with Kiku, he groped him the entire time. It was most definitely not a pleasant experience. Both my feet and Kiku's innocence were destroyed, aru."

"… Well…" Tino hesitated. "This is a completely different situation."

"'S n't Y'ng Soo," Berwald, the feather duster's broom counterpart said, following the two down the hallway like a looming presence. "'S Iv'n. 'Sposed t' be r'mant'c."

It took Yao a moment to decipher his words, and shoved the broom in embarrassment when he finally heard what the other way saying.

"I-It's not romantic, aru!" the prince grumbled. "We're just friends."

"Who are you trying to convince, me or you?" Tino asked.

"I mean it, aru," Yao said, crossing his arms with conviction. "I don't like him, and he doesn't like me. That much is obvious. Or else you wouldn't be cleaning supplies." He gestured to the two objects with him. "This is just… a friendly activity to get to know each other better."

"A lot better, I hope," the feather duster muttered. "You really don't like him? He's so… okay, well, maybe not _nice_… and, um, pretty scary… but it's about what's on the inside! Berwald doesn't say much and he's kind of scary, but we're happy."

"You're a feather duster, aru," Yao deadpanned. "And he's a broom."

"T'no's m' w'fe," Berwald insisted.

"For the millionth time, I'm not your wife," the feather duster said, rolling his eyes. "See, Yao, it's about what's inside someone's heart that makes them special. I'm sure he's a good person deep down that you like a lot. But you just don't want to admit it, hmm…?"

"As a friend? Yes, I like him." The prince paused. "As something more? Possibly, but it simply wouldn't work, aru. He's an unassuming carpenter from a small town. I'm a royal prince with a castle to run. There's too big a gap, aru. There's no way…"

"Don't think so negatively," Tino chastised him. "I've never known you to be so down! Be more optimistic! You know, sanguine! The curse is going to break sometime soon, and you know it."

"I don't know a thing, aru." The prince sighed. "Will you two just leave me alone?"

"No. We're not allowed to let you go back to your room. Arthur specifically told us to keep an eye on you and make sure you didn't back out."

"I didn't agree to this in the first place."

"… Arthur said you did."

"I said '_maybe_', aru."

"Close enough."

Tino pushed him forward a tad.

"This is a very important thing not only for you, but for all of us locked up in this castle," the Finn stated a bit morosely.

"Please, stop," Yao said, shaking his head. "I appreciate the effort, aru, but everyone is pressuring me."

"Because everyone knows that you like Ivan and that you haven't done anything, aren't doing anything at the moment, and probably will never do something about it yourself. It's winter. Time is almost up."

"'S tru'," Berwald put in his two cents.

"Thank you, Berwald," Tino hushed him. "See? We're only trying to help…"

"I don't need help!" Yao growled. "Trust me, everyone has done _enough_. It'd be nice if they would just _stop_, aru."

"We can't stop!" Tino protested. He was grinning. "Everyone is so excited about becoming human again! It's hard to stay still! Did you know we cleaned the entire castle yesterday because we were so restless? Even _Francis_ pitched in, though the most he did was flirt with the other feather dusters and make Alfred, Arthur, and especially… um, what's his name…?"

"Matthew."

"Yeah, and make Matthew angry. But that's not the point. The point is that we're psyched, so you should be too!"

"I _told_ you, there's nothing to be getting yourselves worked up about, aru!"

Yao threw his hands up in the air, exasperated, narrowly missing smacking Berwald in the face.

"Oh, come on, Yao," Tino whined. "At least try! We did this all for you…"

The prince sighed and rubbed his temples with his fingertips.

"Fine."

---

Ivan in a suit was probably one of the most humorous, and attractive, things Yao had ever seen. Poor Ivan—he looked so choked, awkward, and uncomfortable in the old outfit. Where had Matthew and Francis even found that ancient suit? The last person Yao could recall wearing it was Kiku's father when Kiku himself was born, and that was a _long_ time ago. Ivan stiffened and his began twirling with his scarf even more so as Yao walked forward to inspect him up close. It really was taking all of the prince's self-control to stop from either blushing or laughing out loud.

"Oh, god," he chuckled. Ivan's face grew red, and he moved his scarf over his face in a vain attempt to cover his blushing cheeks. "Do you know how _aged _this is, aru? The last person to wear it was Kiku's father. How in the world did they get to this? Do you know where they found it?"

"It was in the closet," Ivan explained.

"Ah, that explains it, aru. I haven't seen this in years."

"… Do you not like it?" the Russian asked shyly.

"No, it's not that, it…" Yao smiled and shook his head. "Well, I think you look very handsome, aru, but your expression is almost miserable. You don't like it, do you?"

"Da. It's not the most pleasant thing to wear, but as long as Yao likes it, then I am fine." Ivan shuffled his feet nervously. "So… what do we do now…? Dance? Will you teach me how? The only dances I used to know were the folk dances of my old village from when I was a little boy, but… well, you know the rest. Da, they are nothing but long lost memories of happy times."

"Well, then," Yao said, extending his hand. "I suppose we should make new ones that you will remember forever?"

"Da, I would like that," Ivan responded. "How do you dance?"

"Let's start with a waltz first, aru," Yao instructed. "Here, give me your hand."

"Okay…" Ivan placed his hand in Yao's slowly.

"Do you want to lead or follow, aru?"

"… What?"

"Do you want to be the man or woman in the dance, essentially."

"Oh. Well, whatever one you do not want to be." Ivan paused. "But I think I should have the man's part. Yao is too pretty to dance like a man. He should be the woman!"

"… Thank you?"

Yao wasn't sure whether that was a compliment or a jibe of at masculinity, or apparently his lack thereof. But, since Ivan said it, it was most likely an oblivious and flattering remark.

"All right, aru," the prince continued, "take your other hand and place it above my waist. Your hand should be around the shoulder blade." Ivan did as told, albeit a bit tentatively. "Now, my hand is going to be just resting on your shoulder, aru. Relax, okay? You're too tense."

"Da."

"Good, aru. A waltz is normally done in 3/4 time, so it will be counting to three in time with the music. One, two, three, one, two, three. Do you understand, aru?"

"I understand enough…"

"Another waltz—actually, the one that Roderich invented—is done in 6/8 time, aru."

"Really?"

"Yes." Yao turned his head away from Ivan and shouted to the piano. "What did you say it's called, aru?!"

"It's the Viennese Waltz!" the piano yelled back.

"American Style Viennese Waltz is better!" Alfred hollered from somewhere. There was the sound of something snapping, and then, "Oww, Arthur! Why would you do that?! My arm just snapped off!"

"… Don't pay any attention to them, aru. They're nuisances," Yao sighed, directing the Russian's attention back to him. "The basic ballroom waltz is a box step, aru. In a simple way of explaining it, it's going forward, side, down, kind of. Pretend as if you're trying to step on my feet, aru… but… don't actually. So, forward a step…" Yao winced as his foot was nearly crushed. At least Ivan wasn't nearly as horrible as Yong Soo.

"Sorry!" the Russian immediately apologized.

"Not that big of a step, aru. We're dancing, not walking. Let's try again," Yao said.

"Okay." Ivan smiled once they finally got it right. "So _that's_ how you do it! I think I remember my older sister trying to teach me something akin to this. In fact, it was a lot like this, da!"

"Oh, thank god. Do you remember anything else?"

"Da, it was very easy."

"I thought you said you didn't know how to dance, aru?"

"… I didn't know what it was called."

"It's called a waltz. You _do_ know how to dance it, aru? Are you positive?"

"Very!" Ivan smiled and nodded rapidly. "Come on, Yao! Let's dance!"

"Alright, alright!" Yao also found himself smiling at Ivan's sudden enthusiasm. All the animosity he had been feeling about dancing with him earlier was wiped away. Ivan's presence always seemed to be able to rid him of his worries, and that thought alone scared him more than he would ever admit.

No, he didn't love Ivan.

It just couldn't be possible.

The negative thoughts on the situation dwindled down to nothing as Ivan twirled him about the ballroom floor, Roderich's beautiful piano melody and the music of the other instruments dictating the steps of the dance. Yao kept his eyes off of the Russian, and only took fleeting glances when he thought the other wasn't looking. Ivan seemed so happy and content. The prince felt sick to his stomach, and that only grew worse when his dance partner pulled him in closer. This was something, Yao knew. He was feeling _something_ for Ivan.

_"We're just friends."_

_ "Who are you trying to convince, me or you?"_

Tino's words echoed in his head endlessly, giving him a headache.

He knew the feather duster was right. He was merely trying to convince himself that he wasn't in love. The prince _knew_ Ivan would have to leave eventually—even if the Russian declared the castle was now his permanent home—and to lessen that feeling of being abandoned by a loved one again, he'd prevented himself from even knowing that he'd fallen for the other. But… maybe Ivan would stay if he asked?

Yao hadn't even realized they'd come to a standstill when he made the decision.

"Ivan—"

"Yao, I—"

They paused.

"… You first, da," Ivan insisted.

"… All right, aru," Yao said, removing his hand from Ivan's shoulder, but still held tightly onto the other's hand. "I want to show you something. Will you come with me?"

"Da."

* * *

**A/N**: That's it for this chapter, folks! The approximate word count is around 2,646 words. Also, any of you play Super Smash Brothers Brawl? Raise your hand if you think Ivan and Yao are badass enough to be a character! *raises hand* Hopefully, you enjoyed this chapter as much as I liked writing it. Oh, and also, my birthday is the 8th, which is coming up _very_ soon! Tell me your thoughts on this chapter, this story as a whole, and etcetera for an early birthday present :) A couple more chapters to go, and then it's over!

... I think I might cry. This has been so fun!

If you're wondering why I didn't write this earlier, a lot of things have been going on. I'm working on my report about Anti-Semitism and the Holocaust in Europe before and during WWII. Also... okay, no more excuses :) I hope it doesn't take me as long to get the next one out, since I just kind of ended it there...


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N**: Okay, you guys. This is it. The final chapter. I can't even _begin_ to explain how many final ending scenarios ran through my head. I settled on the happy one, where everyone ends up awesomely happy. If you don't like the ending, then my deepest apologies. As your reading so far has been for naught. If you like it, then yay! Thanks!

I'm almost 14! As a sort of reversed birthday present thing, I give you with this.

* * *

Ivan's heart thudded in his chest so loudly he was sure Yao could hear it. The prince led him out of the ballroom and through the castle's twisting halls as fast as his feet could carry him. What was so important that Yao was basically running and dragging him along? Even though Ivan insisted Yao should have been the one to speak first when they both interrupted each other, being lugged throughout castle wasn't really what he had in mind for the rest of the evening. He should have been the one to talk first… After all, he had something pretty important to say.

He didn't think he _loved_ Yao, but he felt something for him. He loved his older sister, but what he felt for his sister definitely wasn't what he was feeling for Yao. Ivan wanted to do those things that Francis described in great detail until Arthur shut up him with the prince, not his sister. Doing those… things with his sister would be highly inappropriate. Doing them with Yao—still inappropriate, but maybe not as much. He had asked about it once, but the only thing the prince had said was to never listen to Francis about private things like that _ever again_.

So it wasn't love. But they were strong feelings! What was it, then? He _was_ going to try and tell the other that, but Yao had chimed in and instead of doing anything relatively important with his chance to speak, started yanking him around like a dog on a leash. God, how long had they been wandering around for…? This was actually starting to get just a tad annoying.

"Where are we going?" Ivan asked.

"You'll see!" Yao replied cheerfully.

"… Da," the Russian sighed. "How much longer?"

"I'm trying to find it, aru. Be patient."

"You do not know where you're taking me?"

"Well, I haven't been there for a long time."

"Are we lost?"

"No, aru."

"Are you _sure_?"

"Positive."

"… Do you swear?"

"Yes, Ivan, I swear."

"Da, okay, then."

More and more time passed as Ivan was dragged throughout the castle. Every time he even tried to start a conversation, he was promptly shushed by an overzealous Yao. Five minutes after initially asking if they were lost, Ivan was going to ask again—just in case—but before he could, Yao cut off any more words by opening a door and shoving him through it.

"Found it," the prince declared breathlessly, shutting the door behind him as he also exited.

The cool wintery air hit Ivan's face quickly, reminding him of much he really cherished his scarf. A full moon sat above in the black sky, surrounded by twinkling, silvery stars. The moonlight bathed everything in sight; illuminating the garden they were now standing in and making it seem enchanted. The flowers and trees were in abundance, and a little dirt path led up to a stone bench, shaded by snow-covered tree.

"Come on, aru," Yao said.

Ivan followed him down the path and took a seat next to him on the stone bench. He pretended not to notice how the prince hadn't let go of his hand, instead favoring to look at the white rose bush next to his spot.

"Do you like it?" Yao asked, gesturing to the garden by nodding.

"It's pretty," the Russian muttered. "Not as pretty as Yao, of course."

"You always say that, aru. Why?"

"Because you are very pretty, da!" Ivan reached out, plucked a white rose from the bush, and turned to face his friend. "See this rose? Even though I do believe it's fair, it's not quite as beautiful as Yao." He hesitated a moment, and then extended his hand to place the flower behind the prince's ear. Thankfully, he'd managed to grab a blossom without thorns, or else that would have been pretty painful for the other. "Da, as I said, it's not the most lovely by itself, but on you, it's rather charming."

"T-Thank you, aru…" Yao took a deep breath. "May I ask you something?"

"Of course, da. Yao may ask me anything."

"Are you… happy here?"

"Da. Very. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Yes, well, that's good, then… You don't mind that you're not able to see your sister, aru?"

"Well, I thought maybe that later on something we could take a walk back to my old house and I could formally introduce you to her. And maybe ask her to come live in the castle with us, da…? Or would you not allow that?"

"You want your sister to come stay with us?"

"Da, I think she would love it here. She'd have many friends…"

"Sometime, then, you may go get her and bring her back. Later."

"You should come with me, da. I want to show you my old house!"

"M-Maybe some other time, aru… I can't. Not now."

"Why not, Yao?"

"It's a—"

"Secret, da? I know. Most things are a secret, when it comes to you. But I do not mind."

"I appreciate it, aru." The prince gripped Ivan's hands tighter. "You plan on staying here? Forever?"

"Yes."

"Well… I don't know how to put this, but—"

"What's love?"

"… I beg your pardon, aru?"

"What's love?" Ivan repeated. "What is it supposed to feel like? I love my sister, but that's not what I feel for you, but that is what everyone is telling me it is. I don't understand. Francis said people in love do the things I asked you about…"

"… And what did I say about listening to Francis?"

"I'm not supposed to, because he has no idea what he's talking about, but… I… It's hard to explain, da." Love was really the only word Ivan could find to describe it. "I _think_ I love Yao."

"You _think_, aru?"

Thinking wasn't good enough. Yao knew he was in love; now all he had to do was convince the other. Ivan had to be sure, or else all this was for naught.

"I think," Ivan said again, nodding.

"Well," Yao sighed, standing up from his spot on the bench and tugging the Russian up with him. He coughed, trying to avoid looking the other in the face and exponentially embarrassing himself. "This… is something that's taken me a long time to admit to myself… but… I love you, aru. I _know_ I do. Trust me when I say that was hard to say out loud. I was unsure of what I felt towards your for awhile, aru, so I understand where you're coming from."

"Really?"

"Yes. Really."

"You _know_?"

"I know."

Yao _loved_ him.

He loved _him_!

The beast!

"I love Yao, too!" Ivan suddenly shouted, nodding. "I know! I know for sure now! I love Yao! Very, _very_ much!" He pulled the shocked prince in closer, and captured his lips in a searing kiss, trying to convey all emotion. Finally, Yao responded, and released his hands in favor of wrapping his arms around his neck.

A loud crack resounded in the air, surprising them both and they pulled apart, flushed. Ivan looked at the sky. Sparks of every color were exploding in the night sky. Fireworks! Someone had lit fireworks! The array of colors illuminated the entire garden, and also highlighted Yao's pale face. The scene was so perfect, and he looked so beautiful that Ivan pulled him for another kiss, this one sweeter and slower than the first.

---

"Who let Hong Kong near the fireworks again?!"

"Sorry!"

"Alfred, you bloody idiot!"

"I thought they would give it the final touch, you know?"

"Well, it's certainly beautiful, _mon cher_."

"It's pretty, eh."

"Not as pretty as you, _mon amour_."

"F-Francis…!"

"We're human! Check it out!" Alfred shouted, grabbing everyone closest to him. "I'm wearing pants!"

"Thank heavens," Arthur grumbled.

"You don't seem to be understanding the situation completely," Alfred said, now solely focusing his attention on the British man. "We're _human_ again! Isn't it great?! I can feel you and stuff! And _god_, your eyebrows are exactly like I remembered them! Look! Neither of us has changed a bit!" He pulled Arthur into a bone-crushing hug. "This is awesome. That's right, who's your hero? Alfred F. Jones is the hero! God, Iggy, did you ever think we'd be like this?! _Human_! I can't believe it! It just seems all too surreal!"

"I-I can't breathe…" the Briton gasped, and inhaled sharply when Alfred loosened his grip, mostly to stop from bursting out into tears. Gentlemen did not cry. "This is all so impossible. I don't… How… It…"

"Whoa, don't hurt yourself," the American laughed. "By the way, if I can recall correctly, I think you owe me…?"

"Eh, isn't it great, Francis?" Matthew asked, tugging on the other's shirtsleeve.

"Of course it is," the Frenchman replied, smiling. He quickly picked Matthew up bridal style, ignoring all protests. "Now, let's go see if our room has changed at all, shall we…?"

---

"Ve, Ludwig, look!" Feliciano stood on his tiptoes and waved his hand in the German's face. Despite being human again for all of five seconds, Feliciano was already annoying the hell out of him and beginning to give him a migraine. Ah, the price of love. "I'm not a stove anymore. And you're not beer! See?" The Italian waved his hand faster, and just to prove his point even more, began repeatedly slapping the other lightly. "I'm touching you, ve! I can touch you and feel you! It's great! Come on, Ludwig! Touch me back!"

"Touch him and you die, potato bastard!" Romano shouted.

At least when he was a mug of beer, he could hide easily. Now, he had nowhere to run and avoid the older Italian brother. Even though the oldest was just as much of an idiot as his younger brother, he knew the German's 'vital regions' were places that he did not like to be hurt. The look on his face told him the other remembered that little fact, too, and wouldn't mind exploiting it. Damn it. When did Ludwig ever get a break?

"Come on, Ludwig! Ve!" Feliciano whined, now resorting to tugging on his hair.

"Don't you have something else to do?" Ludwig grumbled. "No doubt Antonio is looking for you."

"Damn Spanish bastard," Romano muttered, and left the kitchen with the pretense of hiding from said Spanish bastard, but was mostly likely going to go look for him, and 'accidentally' bump into him.

"See? We all got our happy ending!" the remaining Italian said happily.

"Hmph."

Ludwig decided to shut him up with a kiss.

---

"I love you," Ivan said, smiling.

"I love you, too, Ivan," Yao responded.

"I told you this was where I belonged, da."

"You did, aru."

"We should have done this earlier…"

"Well, at least we're happy now, right?"

"Da. Very happy."

And so, beauty and the beast lived happily ever after.

Or, as happily as anyone stuck in a castle with the others could be.

The End

* * *

**A/N**: Don't worry--there's an epilogue. To all of you who have supported me throughout this, I love you. This was my first ever fanfic, and everyone's encouraging words and opinions and praise made it a wonderful experience. I plan on continuing to write more fantasy!situation fanfictions for this pair, so be sure to check my profile! Right now, after I'm finished with the epilogue, I'm planning on writing a sort of Enchanted-type Rochu fic. Would anybody be interested?

Thank you guys ever so much! I love you all!


	11. Epilogue

**A/N**: And here is everyone's happily ever after... Hopefully, I touched on every pairing I insinuated. (Except Austria/Hungary, as I'm more of an Austria/Prussia fan myself, but it almost feels like I'm betraying someone by whenever I write Austria/Prussia, so... Also, skip some of the first paragraph is Prussia/Ukraine offends you. I just think Prussia would go after her for her big breasts.)

* * *

Even Natalia got her happy ending. After realizing all her pining for Ivan was a lost cause, she agreed to marry an ecstatic Toris the baker. Even though she wasn't the most ideal sister-in-law, Eduard and Raivis welcomed her into the baker's family with somewhat wary open arms. Ukraine was fetched for by Ivan himself and was given her own room in the castle. There, she met an equally lonely and crazy Gilbert, and despite her younger brother's objections, the two were married and would never have to be alone again. Ivan's revenge on the townspeople was bragging about how he was rich and in love with a prince. The pipe was, sadly for him, fortunately for the townspeople, never used.

Speaking of marriage, Alfred managed to make both his wedding vows to Arthur, and the vow never to eat gingerbread men again, because that would just be creepy. Yao convinced Taiwan to go off and search for Kiku to be happy again. In the end, she did succeed in finding the middle brother, and restarted contact between the two brothers. Seeing an opportunity to freely grope Kiku, Yong Soo declared they should all meet up and become a dysfunctional family once again. He only groped Kiku (and when the others weren't looking, poor Hong Kong was also a victim) though, because Ivan had a metal pipe, and he wasn't afraid to use it if Yong Soo did so much as lay a hand on his prince.

Yong Soo was the only one who didn't bona fide end up with a significant other, but that wasn't really surprising. The only person he ever showed _true_ interest in was Hong Kong, and it would be a cold day in hell before Yao, Kiku, and even _Arthur_ allowed that. But even the threat of death (because whatever made Yao unhappy, made Ivan unhappy, and as stated earlier, the guy had a _metal pipe_) didn't stop him from using his Korean spirit to persuade Hong Kong to come back to his kingdom with him. Needless to say, not many were pleased, but they quickly got over it and Hong Kong promised to keep in touch.

It also wasn't surprising that Berwald decided to make Tino his _official_ 'wife' and marry him. That only encouraged Feliciano and Antonio, but Ludwig and Romano would honestly rather drop dead. Matthew and Francis didn't really care about the status of their relationship, and just decided they would wait until things settled down to take that next step. Vash and his little sister Liechtenstein decided to move out of the castle and go live in the village. They started their own banking company, always write back to the castle's occupants, and sometimes visit. Banking was more Vash's hobby than being a castle servant, anyway.

And, of course, last but never least, Yao and Ivan stayed together happily and in love.

Forever.

The End

(For real this time)

* * *

**A/N**: Amazing, right? Korea/Hong Kong FTW. I believe that everyone should get a happy ending no matter what. It honestly pains me to put this story as 'complete'. But this isn't the last you've heard from me, don't worry! :) (Anyone get that Vash is a banker? Swiss bank accounts, anyone?)

**_Important Edit 4/16/10_: **Ah, well, so it seems another member of this site and I have gotten into a little... how should I put this... 'friendly scuffle' over the brutally lame ending. Two words: I know. Personal issues that could not be ignored any longer popped up, and I wanted to finish this than have it unfinished forever. I did not want to post that at the end and use it as an excuse and whatnot, but this is not an excuse. This is an _apology_. Do not message me asking what the 'personal issue' is. That is private information, but I appreciate your concern if you were entertaining thoughts of messaging me. (If you did at all, that is) This was a very fun thing to do while it lasted. I thought maybe I could _really_ finish this and prove something to myself, but that did not happen. Personal issues blocked me. Maybe someday I'll be able to rewrite this and give all my loyal fans the ending they deserve--because, seriously, they deserve it. And to everyone who has reviewed about the ending and my typos; thank you. I appreciate the fact that you want to help others on the writing adventures. Really. I did tell those certain people that I get bored with things easily, but that was kind of not-the-truth. I just didn't want anybody to feel bad for me if I told them all of this. So really--don't feel bad for me. These are my problems, not yours. (This whole paragraph wasn't meant to be biting and sarcastic, but honest and sincere)

I still love you all for supporting me throughout this. All your nice words and kind criticism made it possible for me to even write an ending. And if you were satisfied with the ending, thanks :)

I hope you understand. If you don't... well, then there's not much I can do about it.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart. (Sorry to have whined about my life for so long)


End file.
